Cliché
by Alexis.Danaan
Summary: Eight years after the end of the war Hermione does something that will change her world as she knows it. OOC, EWE, NC-17.
1. Chapter 1

**Cliché**

**A massive (you can't possibly believe how massive) thanks to Izzy for all of the time she put in to this with me. Without her advice and suggestions I would be lost, not to mention how well she strokes my ego. Stroke it baby, stroke it! Thank you, Iz!**

**For the record, this ****IS**** a Hermione/Severus story and while Hermione is more than an adult in it, if that's not your cuppa, I totally understand. I will not tolerate flaming for it, though. If you don't like it, don't read it. Capice? **

**Finally, this is flangst. There's considerable fluff here and there; not the spewing rainbows, farting cotton candy and unicorns everywhere kind but...you know, fluff. If you don't like that, I suggest you bounce. **

**Also, it is completely written.**

_**6 weeks:**_

_I'm a fucking idiot!_

Hermione grabbed on to the edge of the porcelain sink, the familiar colours of her bathroom decor swimming before her eyes.

How had she gotten to this point? How had she become _this_ woman?

Merlin, what would her mother say?

What would _Molly_ say?

She opened her eyes, unaware that she had closed them against the blurring of her world—the blurring of lines that should never have been crossed. Sitting in her palm, seemingly innocent and innocuous, lay the Muggle pregnancy test. The two little blue lines became one as her eyes filled with tears and she reached a shaky hand into her messy bun to extract her wand.

She knew the charm, even if she had never had to use it. There wasn't a spell out there that Hermione couldn't do, wasn't that what Hagrid had once said? Her mind couldn't help but picture what the half-giant's face would look like if—no, _when_—he found out.

Her hand was less than steady as she circled her wand over her abdomen and she had to perform the spell twice before it worked as it was supposed to. Purple for positive, yellow for negative.

She watched the air before her body shimmer but she already knew what colour it would turn, she just _knew_.

Funny that her first thought would be how much she had always hated lilacs.

**xXx**

_**8 weeks:**_

"What do you mean, you're quitting?" Kingsley demanded, his usually calm demeanour shattered by shock and indignation.

"I'm sorry Kingsley, but I have no choice," Hermione said, clenching her hands behind her back. She had thought long and hard about it but she knew that there had only ever been one choice for her. She did not begrudge others their right to abort, she just knew she couldn't do it herself.

"You have no _choice_!" he echoed. "You couldn't have forewarned me? You couldn't have given me any notice? Hermione, do you have any idea what kind of position you're putting me in?"

"I'm sorry, sir," she said, her voice soft. She released her hands and shoved them into her unruly curls. "Unforeseen circumstances have come up that make me a...a liability to the department."

"Hermione that's a bollocks answer and you bloody well know it!" he yelled, throwing down the quill he had been holding when she walked in and demanded a moment of his time. He pushed away from his desk and began pacing behind it, the worried eyes of his predecessor watching from their portrait.

"It's the only answer I can give you right now!" she cried, her hands lowering slightly to cover her face. Her skin felt hot to her touch but she had no way of telling if it was shame or if she was getting sick on top of her condition.

She winced internally. She hated that phrase, and now it applied to her.

"Hermione," Kingsley called to her and the sudden softness in his voice made her lower her hands and look at him apologetically. "Tell me, not as your boss but as your friend, what has happened to you?"

"It's not something that happened _to_ me," she whispered, blinking against the burning sensation in the back of her eyes. "It's something that I did to _myself_".

He sighed heavily and turned to the portrait behind him. "Gibbons, could you alert Malcolm that I'll be needing termination papers drawn up for Auror Granger?"

"Of course," the portrait nodded and, with one last look cast at Hermione, whisked himself out of the confines of the painting.

"Hermione," Kingsley said, walking over to her and placing his hands on her biceps. "Talk to me."

"I...I...," she stammered, the burning increased and she could feel her eyes filling up with tears. She hated herself for them, but not as much as she hated her need for comfort. She hadn't told a soul, yet, but she wouldn't be able to hide it forever.

"I'm pregnant," she whispered, closing her eyes against whatever expression the news would induce.

"You're...wow," he said lamely. She chuckled but it was a sound without mirth as she brought a hand up to her face once more. "I wasn't expecting that."

"Neither was I," she admitted. "I've been stupid and...you can see why I can't be out in the field."

"No," he agreed, "you can't."

He squeezed her arms gently and she opened her eyes on the silent prompt. His face was compassionate but it was the understanding in his brown eyes that made her lose her tenuous control on her emotions. She drew in a shaky breath and exhaled it on a sob. Without a word, Kingsley shifted his arms so that he could pull her closer and hold her as she cried onto his neat, dark blue robes.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered, between heaving breathes and self pitying cries. "I'm so, so sorry."

"Don't apologise to me, Hermione," he said. "We'll figure this out."

**xXx**

_**10 weeks:**_

Kingsley was as good as his word. She should have known that he would be. He had quickly informed Malcolm that, instead of the termination papers, Hermione would be desk bound for an indefinite period of time. She was, under no circumstances, to take a field position or any case that would require her to seek out suspects and witnesses. She was officially a paper pusher.

She should have felt more grateful about it.

If there was one upside to it, she had the time to make and keep appointments, including the ones with her new Muggle OBGYN. She had decided, after a lot of research, that she would use a Muggle doctor for her pregnancy, but brew and take potions instead of Muggle prescribed vitamins and medications. Since her child was undoubtedly a magical one all of her research pointed towards a stronger and healthier child if magical pre-natal care was administered—of course, that could simply be an anti-Muggle bias but she had purchased enough books that she was comfortable with stating that it was probably simple fact. One book in particular, _The Pregnant Muggle-Born: What To Do When You Can't Go To Your Own Mum_, had been dead useful and so far she had spent her admittedly large amount of free time at her new desk with a pregnancy book disguised to look like something boring and decidedly 'Hermione-esque'.

Harry had been, naturally, shocked to hear the news that she had been pulled from field duty. It had taken a little over a week for it to reach him, considering that he was almost always on the road but word had spread around the Ministry and so it hadn't taken long for the Weasleys to hear of it. The next time Harry had stopped into the Burrow for brunch he had been set upon by the others in an attempt to discover why Hermione had taken to the desk.

"So, you going to tell me what's going on?" he asked, curling into the plump corner of her couch with a mug of tea balanced on his boney knee.

"Who told you?" she asked, tucking her feet under her and palming her own mug. The warm scent of tea was familiar and calming for her English sensibilities. It was almost as if it had been engraved in their DNA; when in doubt, make tea. She had recently found a new appreciation for it since she discovered that ginger tea, sweetened slightly with honey, helped settle her stomach.

"Arthur," he said, shrugging slightly. "He wanted to come ask you but he didn't want to presume."

She sighed and tucked a stray curl behind her ear. With the exception of Ginny, it hadn't been easy between her and the Weasleys since she had called it off with Ron. Arthur was the easiest to talk to since she saw him regularly but their conversation never drifted into territory that was too personal.

"He's worried that you're sick or something," Harry said, taking a sip of his drink.

Her stomach jumped with nerves. "Not exactly," she hedged. Harry was different, he hadn't been raised with the ideals of Wizarding society and he would probably react the best to her news out of all of her friends. The Wizarding world was, in some ways, very old fashioned. Their views on children outside of wedlock just happened to be one of them.

"Hermione?" Harry asked, leaning forward, his green eyes concerned and his brow furrowed. She caught herself thinking that it was nice to see his eyes without the glass spectacles that he had grown up with. They weren't exactly conducive to his Quidditch career and he had had his eyes magically fixed eight years ago after the war had ended and he had decided what he _actually_ wanted to do with his life.

"I'm pregnant, Harry," she said, forcing herself not to close her eyes against his reaction like she had done with her boss. This was Harry. She had to see this through; it was her own fault, after all.

"You're taking the piss," he said, but his widened eyes said that he knew she was not. Hermione did not joke about such things and they both knew it.

"I wish I was," she said softly.

"How did...," he shook his head, putting his mug down on the floor. "Never mind, I know how it happened. How far along are you? When did you find out? Who is the father?"

She sighed and this time she did close her eyes. She closed them against the slightly hazy memory that the mention of 'the father' brought forth.

"I'm just under ten weeks," she said, clutching her cup like a talisman. "I found out about three weeks ago. It's not uncommon for my cycle to be late when I'm stressed but I've never missed one completely before, that's when I took the test and found out."

He nodded, staring at her, thankfully, without scorn. "And the father?"

"I...," she swallowed hard. "I...don't want to say."

"Why the hell not, Hermione?" he demanded.

"Because there's no point," she whispered, not able to look at him now. "I won't be telling him about it, anyway."

"Oh, no," Harry groaned and she heard the slap of flesh on flesh, causing her to look up at him smacking his forehead. "No, Hermione, no. That's a bad idea, a very idea."

"The whole thing is a bad idea, Harry," she said. "But I can't...I can't terminate."

"I'm not suggesting that you do," he said from behind his hands, his voice slightly muffled. He groaned loudly and picked his head up to look at her with sad eyes. "Hermione, you can't keep this from him. A bloke has the right to know that he's got a kid out there."

"This one won't care," she said softly, unable to stop from picturing it in her mind. He would be _furious_ with her, and probably with himself as well. He had always had an acerbic tongue, sharp as a knife, and it would be turned on her, full force. She didn't need that.

"Yes, he will—"

"Trust me," she interrupted. "He won't care. In fact, he'll probably try to convince me to get rid of it. I don't want to deal with the inevitable blow out, there would be screaming and insults and I just...I can't. I don't want to have to listen to him belittle me for my choice to keep it or my stupidity in getting this way in the first place."

Harry snorted. "It takes two to fucking tango, as the American's say."

The smallest of smiles touched the corner of her lips and she nodded. "Yes, but he wouldn't see it that way and...it truly is my fault."

"Why do you say that, 'Mione?" he asked, scooting forward to pull her mug out of her hands, place it next to his, and take them in his own. "Sparing me the details, how did this happen? Why didn't you protect yourself?"

"I...," she drew in a shaky breath and tried to tell herself that crying some more wouldn't help her one iota. It was easier said than done. "I was drunk and I just...didn't care. I got so caught up in the moment that by the time I thought about it, I didn't want to stop. Normally I brew my own potion and take it monthly but I've been so busy with work and I wasn't seeing anyone so I didn't think I'd need it."

"And he didn't offer?" Harry asked. "He didn't ask? Do the charm?"

"No," she whispered. "He was just as drunk, I think. Probably more," she said, thinking about how they had ended up in bed. It never would have happened without the help of booze. "God," she pulled her hands out his hand buried her face in them. "I feel like such a fucking cliché."

Harry's hands wrapped around her biceps in the exact same place that Kingsley's had and he similarly pulled her to him. She was momentarily unbalanced and she sprawled forward, landing in his lap. He leaned back, the arm rest supporting him, as he stretched his long legs around her. Hermione settled comfortably in the niche of his body, wrapping her arms around his waist and settling her head on his chest.

Not for the first time she wished that she was in love with Harry Potter, and that he was in love with her instead of Ginny Weasley. It would have made life so much _easier_.

"Are you sure about keeping it?" he asked, softly. The sound reverberated through his chest and into her ear.

"Yes," she whispered as the tears came.

With one hand smoothing her curly hair and an arm around her shoulders, Harry sat quietly and let her cry tears of shame and fear.


	2. Chapter 2

**Cliché**

**Thank you for all of your lovely reviews! I admit, I was a bit sceptical about how many SS/HG fans I would find for this but you have all blown me away! **

_**15 weeks:**_

Her day had started out normally—or as normal as it could be with the secret she was hiding. It was a secret that Harry never failed to remind her couldn't be hidden forever. She hadn't gained much in the way of weight, a pound or two, but nothing especially noticeable. She had never been more thankful for the loose and rather shapeless Ministry robes all the Aurors were expected to wear, even when at the desk. It hid the slightest of bumps that could be found between her hip bones and for that fact alone she would never complain about them ever again.

Her morning meetings had gone well; she hadn't had to excuse herself in order to cast a Silencing Charm in the female loos while she retched into a toilet and she had left council room thinking that maybe her morning-cum-all-day-sickness had finally abated. She had kept herself busy at her desk, filing paper work for other Aurors and researching necessary information for ongoing cases when she got an interdepartmental memo from Lavender asking her to go to lunch.

It had all gone downhill from there.

Lavender and Hermione had not been friends in Hogwarts, in fact, they had less than subtly disliked each other. Hermione envied Lavender's ability to take what she wanted and Lavender had been jealous of Ron's devotion to his best friend. When the end of her relationship with the youngest male Weasley had been splashed all over the papers Hermione had expected to get snide remarks from Lavender when they occasionally saw each other in the lifts. It was a testament to how much they had both changed that instead Lavender had offered an olive branch and a friendly, "I'm sorry it went to the shitter". Sometimes it still came as a bit of a surprise to Hermione that their working relationship had steadily turned into a true friendship over the years but she wasn't sorry for it. She had always been decidedly lacking in the girlfriend department.

"I'm craving something different," Lavender announced as soon as she spotted Hermione leaving the lifts in the Atrium. "Can we skip the canteen and hit the streets?"

"Hit the streets?" Hermione laughed. "Have you been watching the telly again?"

Lavender blushed prettily and Hermione grinned. The other girl had never lost the rounded baby-faced look of her youth but it suited her. Combined with her short stature and her beautiful curling blonde hair, Lavender sometimes looked like she was still fourteen. It was a fact she bemoaned regularly.

"That's not the right expression, is it?" the other witch asked as they made their way through the mess of the Atrium. It was crowded, as to be expected during the lunch hour, and Hermione found herself more and more aware of the way people collided with her body as her pregnancy wore on. It was with a conscious effort that she stopped herself from placing a hand over her still flat abdomen.

"No, it's not the _wrong_ expression," Hermione laughed, grabbing a handful of Floo powder from the canisters next to the fire places. "It's just not very typical outside of a crime drama." She threw in her handful and called out 'Street Level' before stepping in and reappearing in the women's public loo. Emerging from the stall, she quickly transfigured her clothes into Muggle attire and waited for Lavender to join her. When the blonde had changed her purple robes into a cute dress they continued on their way.

"Crime drama," Lavender repeated. "That's the ones with the Muggle Aurors, right?"

"Yes, the police," Hermione said, not bothering to explain the difference between regular police officers and detectives. Lavender had taken a shine to television and Hermione had introduced her to the world of DVDs via a Muggle rental store. Thankfully, the other witch was a quick study and had only had to Floo call Hermione twice with questions about the telly and the DVD player.

"Yeah, I've watched a few of those," she said. "They're really interesting, the way the police figure out how the crime happened and try to trace it back to the person. It's got to be a whole hell of a lot more difficult than what you lot do."

"You'd be surprised," Hermione said. "We hit as many dead ends as the Muggles do at times. It's often easier to hide your tracks with magic, especially if you know how to muddle your signature."

Lavender made a noncommittal noise and nodded her head. "What are you craving?"

Hermione tried not to look guilty at the word 'craving' and thought for a minute. "Hmm...pad thai."

"Mmm," Lavender agreed, hooking her arm in Hermione's and heading in the direction of their usual place. She was lucky that her companion didn't ask too many questions and wasn't, bless her, all that observant otherwise she might have noticed the oddities about Hermione's behaviour since she had been relegated to paper pusher. Lavender had asked questions, of course, but she had easily accepted Hermione's vague answer about departmental changes and shifts in roles. Since she worked with the Magical Liaison Office she had next to no idea how the Auror department worked.

The two young women were a scant two blocks away from the street level entrance to the Ministry when Hermione noticed a familiar head of black hair and her stomach dropped to her toes. He was walking towards them, dressed in Muggle trousers and a white dress shirt buttoned right up to the neck and down to the wrist, his eyes on the pavement before him.

Her first thought was to wonder what the hell he was doing in Muggle London, walking towards the Ministry.

Her second was to panic.

"Holy shite!" Lavender whispered. "It's Professor Snape!" She called out, "Professor! Professor Snape!" and waved her arm, as if he could miss her.

Hermione stopped, standing rigidly, and silently cursed Lavender as Severus Snape's head snapped up and his eyes roved over first her companion, and then her. His eyes widened as they locked on hers and he, too, stopped where he stood.

"How are you Professor?" Lavender asked, completely oblivious to the tension running between the two people. "Haven't seen you in a while! How's Hogwarts?"

The name of the school he had taught at for half of his life seemed to snap him out of his reverie and he closed some of the distance between them, stopping a foot or so away. "Miss Brown," he intoned, his voice deep and soft. "Miss Granger. I am well, though I am no longer employed by Hogwarts."

"You're not?" Lavender sounded genuinely sad, a fact that was not lost on Snape as his eyebrows rose slightly. "So I guess you're no longer Professor, huh?"

Snape stuffed his hands in his pockets and looked down his nose at her. "It would seem so."

"That's a shame," she said, smiling at him teasingly. "I guess we were the last ones to enjoy your rather stimulating teaching methods."

She had not meant it as an innuendo, Hermione knew this, and yet she couldn't stop herself from seeming to choke on her own saliva. She coughed and spluttered, drawing both of their attentions to her.

"'Mione, you all right?" Lavender asked.

"Yeah," she gasped, her eyes watering slightly. "We should go get lunch, before our break is up."

She chanced a glance at Snape who was watching her warily, his brow furrowed. Even from the distance between them she could see how stiffly he was holding himself and she knew that her own body mirrored that kind of subtle nervousness.

"Good idea," Lavender said. Turning to Snape she smiled and wished him a good day.

He nodded curtly. "Miss Brown, Miss Granger, take care."

Hermione's stomach was in a tangled mess of knots as they began to step around each other. She ducked her head and closed her eyes, praying to every deity she'd ever heard of to just get her out of there as fast as possible, when the toe of her boot caught on an uneven part of the sidewalk and she suddenly pitched forward.

Her eyes flew open in shock and her free hand came out to catch her fall just as Lavender yanked back on the arm still wound up with hers and another, stronger arm caught her about the waist.

She sucked in a great, deep breath and was assaulted by the all too familiar scent of her former Professor. Herbs and soap seemed to smother her and the arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her closer to his warm body seemed to trap her. She tensed in his embrace and suddenly the world toppled over.

"Oh god," she mumbled, feeling the uncomfortable wave of dizziness take her and throw her off balance. "Oh fucking hell," she closed her eyes against it and felt the first arm joined by its partner, holding her up and moulding her back to his chest.

"Hermione!" Lavender's voice was shrill and pierced her ears. Instinctively, she brought her hands up to cover them from the assault. "Are you okay?"

"No," she moaned, leaning into the support that Snape was offering. "No, I'm not."

"What are you feeling Miss Granger?" his voice was right by her ear, his breath fanning over her neck.

"Dizzy," she replied, fighting the nausea that threatened to bowl her over.

"When was the last time you ate?" he asked, shifting his hold on her.

She didn't get a chance to answer as she felt his forearm brush against her stomach and her eyes flew open. She knew, logically, that there was no way he could feel it, there was no way for him to know. She was barely showing. It was so small that someone who had only been intimately introduced to her body _once_ wouldn't notice the difference. Unfortunately for her, she was not thinking rationally anymore.

She met his startled brown eyes for a heartbeat before turning away to throw up all over her leather boots. He held her, bent at the waist, as she brought up the light snack that she had consumed at her desk while perusing a few tomes from the Ministry library.

"I think she might be fighting a flu," Lavender said while Hermione's stomach continued to clench and force her to gag. She felt her entire body flush with the embarrassment of vomiting in front of people, especially Snape. "She's been dashing to the loo for a while now."

Hermione couldn't hold in a groan at Lavender's words. _Of course, she has to become observant now. Of course._

"Perhaps you should see a Healer, Miss Granger," Snape's voice was still soft and it rolled over her pleasantly as he pressed a wrist to her forehead. "You don't have a fever, but you are slightly warm."

"I'll be fine," she gasped, straightening. With a quick look around, she pulled her wand out of her hair where it was disguised to look like an elaborate clip and conjured herself a handkerchief to wipe her mouth with.

Snape released her to quickly conjure a glass and fill it with water, which he moved into her field of vision and held until she accepted it. She took it with a muttered thanks and tried not to think about the fact that he had cupped her elbow as soon as she took the glass from him.

"Do you want to go home?" Lavender asked. "I can tell Kingsley that you're not well."

She grimaced but nodded. There was no way she could tell them that she was suddenly fine without raising suspicions and he was the last person she wanted to find out about her pregnancy. It occurred to her, suddenly, that she would probably have to quit her job before she gave birth and retreat from the public eye if she didn't want him to ever find out. _The Daily Prophet_ would have a field day with her as an unwed mother.

"Want to Side-Along?" Lavender asked, reaching out to her friend. Hermione shook her head. She was touched, but she didn't need as much assistance as the other witch was offering.

"I'll just go back to the Ministry and Floo home," she said, without thinking.

"I would recommend Apparition, Miss Granger," Snape said suddenly. "The spinning effect of the Floo will not help your stomach or your dizziness."

"I...," she hesitated. Apparition actually made her feel worse than Flooing did, something that was apparently common with pregnant witches according to the books she had ordered. There was no way she could reasonably argue her way out of it though, not with the pair of them watching her closely.

"Yes, I suppose you're right," she said, waving her wand at the empty glass and Vanishing it along with the mess at her feet. "I'll be fine on my own, though."

"Are you sure?" Lavender asked.

"Of course," Hermione smiled weakly at her. "I'll owl you when I get home."

Lavender nodded and Hermione took a step back from both of them, forcing Snape to release her elbow. She looked at him quickly and forced herself to meet his probing gaze. He could tell something was off, she was sure, but she was equally sure that he would not guess at the truth.

"Thank you for your help, Mr. Snape," she said, forgoing his former title. She had stopped thinking of him as her Professor long before she took him to her bed but after that interaction there was no way she would ever be able to call him that again.

She discreetly cast a Notice-Me-Not charm on herself just in case a Muggle happened to look around a corner, or out of a window. With one last weak smile at the pair of them, she turned into herself and disappeared.

**xXx**

_**18 weeks:**_

Sitting on her squishy couch, one hand over her very firm and slightly protruding belly, Hemione finally admitted that she couldn't hide the little person growing inside of her for much longer. She had been devouring book after book, both Muggle and Magical, about what was happening to her body and yet it didn't seem to be helping her understand or cope at all.

She felt like a stranger in her own skin and it was disconcerting to a degree that she couldn't even begin to describe. She understood the science of it, that was not the problem, and she enjoyed reading about the new developments that were happening to her unborn baby; everything from the cutesy 'your baby's fingernails are now approximately the size of half a grain of rice' to the less adorable 'by 19 weeks, the foetus will be covered in a fine, downy hair known as Lanugo', Hermione read through it all at warp speed in the hopes that it would help her feel...connected to this child.

Her body was changing so quickly that, even with the books to help guide her expectations, she felt like she barely knew herself anymore. Her breasts were constantly sore and she had taken to wearing a bra at all times to alleviate some of the pain; she could barely get through the morning without making a trip to the loos at least four times—she was not looking forward to the stage where sneezing and laughing would cause her to literally piss herself—and she now realized that her dizzy spell with Snape was a result of her blood pressure changing; she had an entire list of things she absolutely could _not_ do or eat because it would harm the baby not to mention all the things she _had_ to do because it would help the baby.

Above everything, however, it was the fact that her emotions and her magic had gone haywire that made her feel so disconnected from herself. She knew that pregnant women were more susceptible to emotional overloads and that since a witch's magic is intimately connected with her emotions that it would be affected too but it did her no comfort. Her books told her to expect oddities and even spells that she couldn't perform correctly—or at all, really—while she was pregnant. Knowing it was a possibility had not prepared her for the reality of accidentally Vanishing her cup when she meant to Scourgify it and then promptly bursting into tears over it.

She didn't understand herself, and she didn't understand this baby. It shamed her to admit that she didn't even know its sex, though the ultrasound technician had offered to tell her. As she rubbed her hand over her stomach, her navel poking out a bit more than normal, she remembered the inexplicable terror that she had felt at the innocuous words 'Do you want to know the baby's sex?'. She knew that it was illogical but if she knew the baby's gender then she would have to start thinking about a name and that made everything more _real_.

"What if I'm a horrible mother?" she whispered, one hand over her tummy, the other balancing a large pregnancy book on her knee. "Maybe I should give you to someone else, someone who is ready to be a mother. A woman who knows what they're doing."

It was the one time she could admit that she had no idea where to go from here, that she was completely out of her depths, and that her books were no good. They were not helping her understand.

"How do I know that I'm doing the right thing?" she asked, bringing her other hand up and rubbing slowly over the hard curve of her small bump.

There was no answer.


	3. Chapter 3

**Cliché**

**Thank you for your lovely reviews! I'm glad that you are enjoying the story so far. Massive thanks to Izzy, as always!**

**Warning: This chapter contains le sex. NSFW.**

_**20 weeks:**_

"Hermione!"

Her mother pulled her in for a hug and it was only her purse, held in front of her, that stopped her mother from feeling the swelling in her abdomen. She leaned in to the embrace, relishing the touch and the familiar scent of her perfume.

"You said it was important to talk to me, but you never specified. I have to admit, I've been a bit worried all day," Mrs. Granger confessed, holding out her hand for Hermione's light jacket. "Are you all right, darling?"

"I'm okay, mum," she said, turning around and shrugging out of the jacket. Her jumper was sufficient to cover her belly as long as it wasn't pulled taut but she wasn't going to take any chances until her mother was seated. "I just have some stuff to tell you about."

Her mother took her coat and hung it up, turning for the kitchen as Hermione toed out of her boots.

"I have a feeling I'm going to need to be sitting for this one," she called over her shoulder.

Hermione silently agreed and padded into the familiar kitchen of her childhood home. Very little had changed over the course of her life living under this roof; the changes only came after she received her Hogwarts letter. It was then that magical items began dotting the house; pictures, mostly, but the occasional joke toy from Zonkos that Ron or Harry had given her. Her room became a shrine to a life lived in two worlds. Her Muggle book collection had to make room for magical textbooks, her pens had been joined by quills and ink pots, and her posters replaced by moving pictures of friends and the scenery around the castle.

When the war had broken out in earnest, Hermione had sent her parents away to Australia without any memory of their former lives or their daughter. After Harry had put Voldemort six feet under—which was really just a figure of speech seeing as the Ministry ordered his body to be destroyed—she had retrieved them and reversed the spell. They hadn't been happy, of course, but they understood in the end. Her mother had been a bit wary of magic for a while after that but she had come around eventually—just in time for Hermione's infamous break up with Ron, actually.

But this room was her mother's sanctuary and it had not changed, not even after her father had passed away suddenly from a heart condition none of them had even known he had had.

"So, what's going on this time?" her mother asked, placing a cup of tea before her daughter and settling in a chair adjacent to her.

Hermione grabbed the mug and wrapped her hands around it. Despite the fact that this was the third time she'd told this story—and really, shouldn't her mother have been the first?—it was not getting any easier.

"I'm pregnant, mum," she whispered, staring at the milky tea. There was a heartbeat of silence and then her mother put down her cup.

"Are you really?" she whispered, causing Hermione to look up.

The expression on her mother's face was not one that she had expected. Wonder and happiness lit her eyes as she reached out to touch her daughter's hand softly, tenderly.

"Yeah," Hermione said, uncurling a hand to grip her mother's fingers. "And I'm terrified."

"Of course you are, baby," her mother said, leaning over the table awkwardly to press a kiss to her curls. "I'd be worried if you weren't. Who is the father?"

Here she ducked her head, unable to watch her mother's face.

"An ex-professor?" her inflection left it coming out more as a question than a statement of fact.

"Oh, Hermione," her mother's hand dropped to the table. "What have you gotten yourself into?"

"That's why I'm here, mom," she said, staring at the polished wood table. She remembered a summer when her father had taken it out back, sanded it down and varnished it. "I had a reckless one night stand and now I've got a baby coming and I'm not ready for it, at all."

"You better start from the beginning," Mrs. Granger said, leaning back in her chair and pinning her daughter with one of _those_ looks that seem to come from being a mother.

And so she did. She told her of how she had run into Snape at, of all places, a Muggle bar. It had shocked her to no end at the time but she had already been a few drinks in and had boldly approached him. For the first time he had not simply brushed her off as "Miss Granger", though he did still call her that at first, and she had practically dragged him to a booth so she could monopolize his attention. She had started the conversation by confessing that she only came to Muggle bars to escape ending up on the front page of the _Prophet_, crying into her pint. When he asked her if she actually cried into her booze she had laughed and told him that it only happened when she was particularly stressed out with something from work. That had launched them into a discussion about their respective professions. He had left Hogwarts after the war and used his skills with Potions to earn himself more than a teacher's stipend. Most apothecaries carried some pre-made potions, particularly ones with a long shelf life, along with their raw ingredients. Snape, however, had opened up a shop that specialized in making all the potions you could possibly want or need—for a price. Everything from potions that only a Master would be able to brew to those that most First Years could manage was made to order for those Longbottom-like sods who couldn't manage to _not_ blow their house apart with a cauldron. Hermione had been surprised by just how willing magical folk were to shell out money to have their potions made for them, and he had some very regular patrons, but then she remembered just how disastrous their old Potions classroom had sometimes been and retracted the thought.

They had talked until last call at 2am and she remembered being surprised by the fact that they had been there, willingly conversing, for several hours. When they had finally dragged themselves out of the bar, she had looped her arm through his and, in a daring mood that could have only been inspired by alcohol, had asked him back to hers. He had stared at her for a minute, as if assessing the seriousness of her request, before he finally asked,

"Are you asking me to bed, Miss Granger?"

"I am," she had told him, too drunk to care if he said no but sober enough to want him to say yes. "You clearly don't have to say yes, but I really want you to."

"And you didn't think to use some safety measures?" her mother asked once Hermione was finished talking. "Or did they just fail?"

"No," Hermione groaned, dropping her forehead into her palm. "They didn't fail because I was too stupid and drunk to think about it until we were already having sex and by that point I didn't want to stop. In my defence, he didn't ask either."

"Hermione, it's _your_ body. It's your responsibility!"

"I know, mom, I know!" she snapped. "Trust me, I've already berated myself more than you possibly could over this so can we just skip this part where you make me feel even worse than I already do?"

Mrs. Granger sighed heavily and Hermione looked up at her from under fallen curls.

"I'm sorry," she said finally. "I just...I'm not used to watching you make these kinds of mistakes. I suppose I became accustomed to the idea that my child was never really a child, at least not the kind that was prone to thinking and acting like one."

"Sometimes I think that had there not been a war to fight for the majority of my adolescence I might have managed a few more blunders," Hermione said, a trace of amusement in her voice. "As it were, my mistakes were far more costly," thinking back to the fiasco that was the death of Sirius Black. She had blamed herself for a long time for not stopping Harry that night.

"You grew up far before your time," Mrs. Granger murmured. "Something I've never forgiven the Wizarding world for if I'm honest, but you are only human, my dear. Everyone makes mistakes, no matter what their age. You did what you had to."

"Yes," Hermione agreed. "But what am I going to do now?" she laid a hand against her belly and her mother followed the movement with her eyes.

"Do you want to keep the baby?" she asked.

"Part of me does," Hermione said, her hand slipping under the material of her jumper to rest against the warmth of her own skin. "But how do I know if I'm going to be a good mother? How do I know that giving the baby up isn't the best thing for it?"

"You'll never just _know_, darling. Every woman, every man too, is terrified at the idea of becoming a parent at first. There is no handbook and you never get to a point where you think to yourself 'right, I've learned all there is to know'," she grinned unexpectedly. "_Trust me_, your child will never stop surprising you and there will be days when you'll be quite positive that you're simply not cut out for it."

"I'm beginning to wonder how the hell any woman manages," Hermione said wryly, though her face was thoughtful.

Her mother chuckled. "The lucky ones have their mums around to offer sage advice and point out how they're doing it all wrong from the comfort of an armchair."

Hermione let out a short laugh that quickly turned into a cry. Her mother leaned forward and silently placed a hand on her arm as Hermione covered her face with her other hand. "Thank you," she whispered hoarsely. "Thank you for not yelling at me."

"Why would I yell at you?" her mother asked.

"Because I disappointed you?" she asked, sniffing.

"Oh, honey," her mother murmured, squeezing her arm. "You haven't disappointed me. You're not a teenager without an education or a job. I'd have liked to have seen you married before you had a child but sometimes life just...happens."

Hermione nodded but found that her throat was too tight for speech as she tried to swallow back the lump in her throat.

"It'll be okay, darling."

"I really hope so."

**xXx**

_**24 weeks:**_

Hermione had found a handy charm that hid the curve of her ever expanding belly from those who did not already know about it. It was very similar to the Notice Me Not charm and since the spell was actually cast and woven into her clothes, not her skin, it was safe to use for prolonged periods of time—as in Monday to Friday, from 7:30am to 4:30pm.

Still, she knew it was only a matter of time before someone found out, before someone realized. Plenty of her co-workers had children of their own—whether they were male or female—and she expected that they would eventually recognize the signs, especially the women. She was continually shocked and simultaneously relieved each day that she left the Ministry without someone blowing the lid on her secret. She wanted to work for as long as she could before withdrawing from society until her baby was born—it was fine if there ended up being rumours about her being pregnant, as long as no one knew how far along she was, Snape probably wouldn't figure it out.

She hoped.

As it turned out, the first person to accidentally discover it was the best person Hermione could hope for.

She had been working at her desk, steadily going through a pile of old tomes on Blood magic and Wizarding Wills to help a couple of Aurors working on a case related to inheritance when she happened to glance down and realized that her breasts were wet.

"_Shit_!" she muttered, casting a discreet drying charm at her chest and getting up to go to the bathroom. It had only happened once before and it hadn't occurred to her to line her bra with padding to help stop it from being noticed. One of her pregnancy books had a handy charm that could be cast on gauze to enable it to absorb far more than it would normally be capable of but she had, of course, left that book at home.

She was hurrying down the hall towards the department loos when she passed the lift just as the bell dinged to announce its arrival on her floor. Without warning, someone stepped out and slammed right into her shoulder, knocking her off balance. Her arms pin wheeled as she tried to regain her footing and she felt a jolt of pure terror race through her as she realized she could fall and crush the baby. Her heart seemed to stop seconds before an arm shot out and grabbed on to her and stopped her free fall.

Hermione came face to face with Lavender as the other woman yanked her instinctively close. Under normal circumstances their bodies wouldn't have touched but there was nothing _normal_ about Hermione's circumstances anymore and she saw the exact moment when the other witch felt the hard, round bump of her belly.

The charm did not, unfortunately, stop someone from _feeling_ the swell.

Lavender's eyebrows contracted in confusion for a heartbeat of time before the charm evaporated for her and she was able to _see_ what she already knew was poking her in her own stomach. She gasped and her eyes going comically wide before they shot up to meet Hermione's gaze.

"Come with me," Hermione growled, furious to be outed in such a way. With a quick look around, no one was really paying them much attention since the two were often together, she grabbed Lavender's hand and dragged her along. Lavender, for probably the first time in her life, followed quietly.

Hermione shoved her way into the bathrooms and, upon spotting Alisha Welkins at the sinks, she dragged Lavender into a stall and cast all the silencing charms she knew. With a final flourish of her wand, she looked up to find Lavender staring at her, mouth open.

"Yes," she sighed. "I'm pregnant. No, I won't tell you who the father is but I'm about 5 months along and you can _not_ tell anyone that."

Lavender continued to gape for a second before she breathed a soft, "Holy shit" and sat down hard on the toilet.

Hermione snorted and ran a hand over her hair. It was tied back into a tail and relatively tame these days—she had finally learned how to appreciate a good hair product—but the occasional curl always escaped and dangled in her face.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you, I just wanted to keep it quiet for as long as I could, only three other people know," Hermione confessed, a bit worried about Lavender's reaction.

The blonde looked up from where she had been staring at Hermione's belly and frowned. "Why _are_ you keeping it a secret, beyond the obvious unwed part?"

"That's a huge factor," she confessed, leaning against the stall door. "It's weak but I really just don't want to deal with all the crap that will come from _The_ _Prophet_ about the Golden Girl finally fucking up."

Lavender winced. "Yeah, you'll get a lot of that. You know it's inevitable, right?"

"Oh, definitely," she said, placing a hand on her stomach. "I'm just avoiding it for as long as I possibly can."

"So what's the other reason?"

"The father doesn't know and if he finds out he will _not_ be pleased," Hermione sighed.

"I...wow," Lavender stammered, completely flummoxed. "I wasn't expecting that."

"Yeah well, I wasn't expecting to get pregnant either," Hermione groused. Lavender raised her eyebrows and she instantly felt bad. "Sorry, I'm just a bit of a bitch these days."

The other witch grinned and waved it off. "My cousin had a baby not too long ago, you remember I told you? I'm kind of used to it."

"Yeah, I'm _not_ used to it at all," Hermione retorted. "I don't even feel like myself anymore."

"I don't think any woman does, at least not the first time," the blonde shrugged. "I can't speak from experience but I imagine this is similar to when you got your first period. Remember how weird it was, all the new sensations and emotions, and how long it took for you to get used to it? I'd guess this is the same just...well, okay, maybe not," she snorted quietly and Hermione giggled, rolling her eyes.

"I see what you mean," Hermione admitted, "but I don't think it's quite the sa—"

Her words cut off in a gasp and her eyes widened in surprise before they shot down to the hand that was resting gently against her bump.

"Hermione?" Lavender stood up, reaching out. "Are you okay?"

"I felt it," Hermione whispered, not taking her eyes off of her stomach.

"You what? It moved?" Lavender repeated, placing a gentle hand against Hermione's belly. "Are you sure?"

"I'm sure," she said, her voice soft with awe. "I felt it. Just a little nudge, but it was right against my hand...almost as if it knew I was there."

"Of course it knows you're there!" Lavender said and Hermione could _hear_ the shit eating grin in her voice as her friend's hand slowly caressed the swell. "You're everything to h—it."

"I am, aren't I?" Hermione asked, reaching up with her other hand in the hope of feeling another nudge.

"Yeah, you are."

Hermione looked up then, wonder in her eyes.

"Yeah, I am."

**xXx**

_**28 weeks:**_

_She stumbled slightly, the heel of her pump catching on the entryway to her flat, but it hardly mattered because his arms were already around her, pulling her into his chest the moment they crossed the threshold._

"_Last chance," he murmured, his breath hot on her neck._

_It sent shivers down her spine, her flesh breaking out in goose bumps as liquid heat blossomed in her abdomen. _

"_Don't need it," she retorted, reaching up to pull him by the back of the neck down to her level._

_She claimed his mouth roughly but he didn't seem to mind as he met her bite for bite, pull for pull. Her hands wound into his hair, pulling fistfuls of it so that he might get closer, closer, _closer_. His own hands were tangled in her clothes, one up her skirt and the other pulling at her blouse. _

"_More," she moaned, reaching for his shirt. The buttons were her undoing and she had no patience for them, not to mention any coordination for them. Her frustration mounted as he succeeded where she had not and without conscious thought her magic surged up and out of her fingertips. She crowed victoriously as all his buttons fell to the floor in a clatter._

"_What have you done, witch?" he chuckled, looking down at himself._

"_Fucking buttons," she mumbled, reaching forward to run her hands down pale flesh. He groaned appreciatively as her fingers danced through sparse black hair and played with dark nipples. _

_Her own open shirt lay forgotten for the moment as his head lolled back and he soaked in her attentions. She dipped her head to suck at the junction where his shoulder met his neck and the hand still under her skirt twitched, clenching at the soft flesh of her thigh. She grinned victoriously and attacked the weak spot with a vengeance as one hand slipped lower, caressing the bulge in his trousers._

_The feeling of her hand on his length seemed to snap him out of his lust clouded haze and he sprang to attention, his eyes opening and his hands seeking. Deftly, he hooked his fingers under her knickers and pulled them down her thighs, letting gravity take them to her ankles. She shimmied out of them, kicking them aside to be dealt with later and he murmured his approval as his fingers skimmed the curve of her arse. _

"_More," she moaned again, pushing his shirt off of his shoulders with one hand and fighting with his zip with the other. _

"_You still have no patience," he chuckled as she yanked at his trousers._

"_Are you seriously complaining right now?" she growled. "Because I can stop," she glared at him, her hands full of his ruined zip. He laughed outright then, a soft, deep sound of complete amusement. Swiftly, he palmed her thighs and pulled her up. _

"_But then there would be repercussions, Miss Granger," he murmured, wrapping her legs around his waist and pinning her to the wall with his hips. _

"_Don't you dare, _Severus,_" she retorted, stressing his first name as she dug her heels into his arse. She was still wearing her pumps but something told her that he didn't mind. _

"_I wouldn't dream of it," he said, managing to sound contrite as he thrust against her, his half opened trousers rubbing deliciously against her overheated flesh. _

"_Good fucking lord," she moaned, reaching between them to pull his clothes out of the way. _

_Together, they worked him out of his trousers. He pulled at them with one hand while she tried to use her calves to shimmy them off his hips. They made an awkward sight but neither of them could bring themselves to care._

_Severus growled lightly as his pants finally fell to his knees and he wasted no time in thrusting against Hermione's slick skin, teasing her with short thrusts against her clit. She gasped, her back arching into the sensation as her hands scrabbled for purchase against his shoulders._

"_Bastard," she growled. "Fucking tease."_

"_It's only teasing if you don't plan to follow through," he responded, his voice rough and unfamiliar to her. It made her thighs clench as a jolt of heat unfurled in her stomach. _

"_And do you?" she demanded._

"_Most definitely," he grinned, reaching between them and deftly guiding himself into her body. With one hard thrust, he seated himself fully within her warmth._

"_Oh fuck," she moaned, watching through a half lidded gaze as his mouth fell open and his eyes closed. Leaning forward, she claimed that mouth with her own, biting down on his lip. He responded by pulling back to thrust into her, hard._

"_Severus," she murmured, one hand flying out to find purchase against the wall, or a piece of furniture, anything. Her elbow connected with a picture frame and it fell from the wall with a crash but she couldn't have cared because he had a firm grip on her hips, allowing him to fall into her over and over and ov—_

A real crash startled Hermione out of her dream and into reality, causing her to sit up quickly and send pillows flying.

With a wild look in her eyes, heart racing and hair askew, she looked around to find the source of the noise. Crookshanks meowed at her pleasantly from her chest of drawers across the room, a real picture frame lay face down beside him as he flicked his tail at her.

"Seriously?" she demanded of him, her heart rate slowly falling. He 'mrow''d at her again, seconds before she grabbed one of the many pillows on her bed and threw it at his head. He dodged it, growling and grumbling his discontent.

Hermione had fallen asleep with a weird and precarious balance of pillows and a hot water bottle. Her body aches had steadily gotten worse as she gained weight but her back was positively the worst; even her breasts had been forced to take up second place next to the lower back pain that she experienced daily. The sweet relief of her complicated pillow system to spare her pressure in key areas and a hot water bottle on her back was almost as good as an orgasm.

Almost.

It had been a long, long time since she had experienced that kind of release, in fact, the last time had been in his arms. She hadn't dared relieve the tension herself after she had discovered her pregnancy; something about it just struck her as wrong and she felt guilty for seeking the same release that had landed her in her current predicament.

She sighed and shifted uncomfortably, moving a few pillows around and trying to ease the ache between her legs. The result of her denial had been increasingly sensual dreams; sometimes they were memories of her last wild tryst, others were complete fabrications of her mind or, like tonight, they were somewhere in the middle between memory and fantasy. Either way, they always featured _him_.

With a groan, she slipped her hand under the less than sexy maternity knickers that she hated and gave in to the temptation of that damn man.


	4. Chapter 4

**Cliché**

**So sorry about the delay! I had a lovely time in America with some fabulous ladies but I'm a bit behind with things at home! Hope that you enjoy this chapter!**

_**30 weeks:**_

"You have to let me buy things for my grandchild, Hermione," her mother said for the millionth time, making Hermione clench her jaw against the words that wanted to rush out.

"I know, mom, but you don't need to buy _everything_," she said—for the millionth time.

"I know you have plenty of money set aside, dear, but—"

"_Mom_," Hermione pinched her nose. "I have enough money that I don't _need_ to work, between my Order of Merlin and the shares Dumbledore left Harry, Ron and I in his main estate I am more than comfortable. You don't have to do this, save your money, _please_."

"Hermione...," her mother began again.

She sighed and tuned Mrs. Granger out. They had been bickering about this and that all morning and it was beginning to drive Hermione right up the wall. If it wasn't money, it was the colour of baby clothes, or where Hermione planned on putting it all. Did she have a nursery? Was it baby proofed? Did she think that this would just fall together for her? Why didn't she want to know the sex of the baby? Has she been keeping up with her appointments?

Hermione was on the verge of screaming, or crying. Or both.

"What about this? This is lovely," her mother said, causing Hermione to turn around and look at her.

Her mother was holding a pastel blue onesie with bright orange baubles hanging off of it. She didn't even bother to hide her grimace of distaste.

"That is hideous, mom," she snapped. "My child is not going to look like it has dragon pox."

"Oh, for the love of all that his holy, Hermione," her mother dropped it and began walking away. "I don't know why I bother."

"I don't either," she muttered under her breath, following her mom down the aisle and wondering whether or not she should just owl order most of what the baby would be needing. It would be easier than buying and transporting the Muggle counterparts or having them delivered. She lived in a Muggle area of London, but that didn't mean she wanted Muggle delivery men traipsing in and out of her very magical flat.

Her mother had just stopped at a beautiful crib and changing desk set when she felt a sensation that all women know and loathe; an unexpected wetness between her legs. With a frown, she turned to her mother and informed her that she was going to run to the store bathroom and that she would find her when she was done.

Hermione quickly made her way to the toilets, fearing that she might have peed herself—something that had only happened twice before and thankfully both at home—but she hadn't done anything to warrant the pressure on her bladder. She moved as quickly as she could but breathing was not always the easiest as she got larger and so she had to waddle carefully so as not to give herself a dizzy spell.

She stepped into the loos, seeing a young girl in an bright blue employee smock at the sinks, and rushed into the nearest stall. Dropping her purse on the floor, she quickly worked down her maternity jeans and took a peek at her underwear.

She was bleeding.

"Oh fuck," she cried. "Oh fucking Christ, oh god."

"Miss? Are you okay?" a voice came from outside her stall.

"No, no I'm not," she cried, tears springing to her eyes. "I need an ambulance. I'm bleeding. I need—I need my mother."

"Oh shit," there was the sound of running feet and a door slamming open quickly.

Hermione grabbed a fistful of paper and wiped at herself, seeing more blood. She sat down hard on the toilet and realized that she was sobbing.

"What's wrong? Oh, god," she wrapped an arm around her belly, her hand roving over the hard curve and seeking the feel of her baby moving around. It had been so active lately, hardly letting her get any sleep, that she had grouched and groused to Harry that she would be happy if it would just calm the fuck down and nap but now she was terrified that she would never feel it kicking her in the kidney again.

"Ma'am?" there was another voice, older, female.

"Please," she gasped. "I need an ambulance."

"I know. We've called one for you. Can I come in?"

"I—I—my jeans are down," she admitted, reaching for them.

"How about you put them back on, slowly, okay?" the voice said kindly.

"I—okay," Hermione said. She could do that. She could.

She stood slowly and pulled them up, feeling the uncomfortable wetness and trying to ignore it. She slid the elastic waistband around her belly and leaned against the side of the stall.

"Do you have your jeans on now, ma'am?" the voice asked.

"Yes," she whispered, staring at the door.

"Okay, I'm going to come in now," the voice warned. There was the sound of metal against metal and the door slowly swung open, a strange key hanging in lock on the other side. An older woman in the same blue uniform as the younger girl stood there, watching her carefully.

"Come with me, dear," she held her hands out. "Cecilia said you are here with your mum?"

Hermione nodded, walking stiffly towards the woman. The older lady bent and grabbed Hermione's forgotten purse with a nimbleness that seemed to belie her age.

"What's her name, dear?"

"Harriet. Harriet Granger," Hermione mumbled, taking hold of the woman's arm tightly as the older lady guided her out of the loos.

Everything seemed to pass in a blur for Hermione. She heard her mother's name being paged over the intercom and some part of her registered her mother running up to them at the Customer Service desk. She felt but did not really hear her mother's assessment of her and by the time the paramedics arrived, Mrs. Granger was white as a sheet and wringing her hands anxiously.

"Ma'am, I need you to look at me."

Hermione started at the sound of another voice and stared at the young man in front of her. He wore a dark blue uniform and held up a small flashlight that shone in her eyes. She tried to focus on his face but it was a blur beyond the brightness of the light. Her arms curled around her stomach protectively as he looked to her mother and listened to something she was saying.

"Hermione!" he clapped his hands in front of her, startling her again and making her rear back from him. His face came into focus for the first time and she realized that he had large green eyes, almost exactly like Harry's. "Hermione, your baby needs you, okay? You have to listen to me if we're going to help your baby."

"Okay," she said softly. She felt the world rush back in on her and the sounds around her registered all at once. Her mother was crying, asking if Hermione was going to be okay. The older lady from the bathroom was trying to calm her down, something about shock, while the younger one was telling other employees about what had happened in the bathroom. She heard the sound of wheels on linoleum and looked up to see a second paramedic wheeling a gurney into the department store.

"Hermione, how far along are you in your pregnancy?" the man in front of her asked.

"I—30 weeks," she told him, focusing on the familiar eyes in an unfamiliar face.

"I'm going to touch your stomach now, okay?" he informed her, reaching out to do just that. His hands were warm over her thin blouse as he pressed gently along the curve of her belly. "And have you had any contractions today or recently?"

"No," she told him, watching him move out of the way for the gurney.

"Let's get you up on the bed, love," the other paramedic said, coming around to her side. The pair of them each grabbed an arm, helping her stand and then sit on the low bed.

"Have you experienced any pain, any sharp stabbing sensations?" the one with Harry's eyes asked as she was strapped in and the back was raised into a seated position.

"No," she said answered meekly. "Just back pain."

"Is the back pain the same as it has been throughout the pregnancy? Or has it changed?"

"No, it hasn't changed...where's my mother?" she asked suddenly, realizing that she was surrounded by strangers.

"She's coming with us," he said, pushing her past displays of purses and sweater sets as shoppers stopped to stare. She didn't have it in her to be embarrassed about it as the paramedic continued to ask her questions.

They reached the parked ambulance out front the store and as they loaded Hermione into the back, her mother appeared and climbed in behind her, reaching out for Hermione's hand and gripping it tight.

The two paramedics moved around each other in a well practiced dance as one locked the bed in place and the other began taking her vitals. The doors closed on the three of them and the sirens turned on, sounding dim and far away from the inside, as the ambulance began weaving through London traffic. She answered more questions, weird questions that didn't seem to make sense but that the paramedic seemed to take seriously anyway. She told him about her pregnancy symptoms, what medicines she was taking—renaming the potions she was taking to things like 'natal vitamins'—what her work schedule was like, her job demands, and anything else he could seem to think about.

By the time they reached the hospital, Hermione was feeling less hysterical. Her mind seemed to catch up with the situation and she remembered that all of her pregnancy books had warned her that women would occasionally spot during their pregnancy; that it didn't necessarily mean that the baby was in trouble. She hadn't been bleeding profusely when she went to the bathroom but at the time she hadn't been thinking clearly; all of the facts that she had crammed into her head flew out her ear the moment she saw the blood in her underwear.

"Don't you think you should have gone to _your_ hospital, Hermione?" her mother whispered as a nurse left them in a curtained off waiting room. Hermione was sitting on an uncomfortable hospital bed with a plastic bracelet on her wrist and a heart monitor connected to her index finger.

"No," she murmured quietly. "I'm trying to keep the press from finding out about it."

"Oh," her mother said, nodding as she smoothed down Hermione's jumper. "I guess they would have a lot to say about it?"

Hermione snorted. "Their attitude towards an unwed mother is something akin to the early 20th century."

"Well, what are you going to do when you can't hide it anymore?" Mrs. Granger asked.

"I'm hoping that if I retreat from public life they'll stop caring after a while and by the time my baby is old enough to go to Hogwarts no one will really remember," she said, unsure as to whether or not she was being optimistic or simply naive.

"You think the babe will go to Hogwarts, then?" her mother looked at her.

Hermione was about to tell her mother that between its parents, there was no doubt about whether or not her child would be magical when the curtain was pulled aside and a smiling man came in wearing green scrubs and a stethoscope hanging around his neck.

"Good afternoon, Ms. Granger," he said, placing a chart down on the foot of her bed and pulling the stethoscope off his neck. "Let's take a listen at that baby, shall we?"

The doctor happily put Hermione's fears at ease the more he poked and prodded at her. He assured her that her vitals were fine and, after hooking her up to a machine that allowed them to hear the baby's heart, determined that what caused her bleeding was merely stress.

"Much like your menstrual cycle, you can spot during your pregnancy if you're emotions are running high. Have you been experiencing pressure from work, or other areas of your life?" the doctor asked kindly. Hermione and her mother looked at each other and then away guiltily.

"We were arguing just before it happened," her mother confessed.

"Ah, well, that could have contributed but these sort of things happen because of long term stress, not just in the moment," the doctor said, patting Hermione's knee gently. "I would suggest that you take some more time for yourself. Relax more often, do whatever it is that helps you calm down, even if it' just watching more telly."

"Are you sure that there's nothing else wrong?" Hermione asked, feeling the need to be _sure_ that such a simple explanation could be had.

"Well, once I see the scans from your ultrasound I can be posi—," the curtain opened to reveal the ultrasound technician who had done the scan on her about a half-hour before. The woman was holding several sheets of paper and wore a confused frown.

"The images didn't work," the technician confessed.

"What?" the doctor held out his hand for the sheets and Hermione caught a glimpse of them. Where there should be a baby, there was only a splotch of white and grey. "Is it like this for any others?"

"No," the technician shook her head, looking completely baffled. "This is the only one. Something must have gone wrong. Should I do it again?"

Hermione sighed and glanced at her mother, gauging her reaction to this news. Her mother looked completely baffled but Hermione had a very good idea of what was going on.

"Doctor?" she asked, drawing everyone's attention to her. "Even without these images, are you sure that my baby is fine?"

"I do," he said, "all of his vitals are just fine and—"

"_His_?" Hermione's mother interrupted. The doctor looked at her for a second before a dawning realization came over him.

"Oh, I'm sorry," he said, looking to Hermione who was staring at him in shock. "I didn't realize you were waiting. I'm terribly sorry."

"It's...it's fine," she said, filing the information away for later. "It—He...is going to be fine?"

The technician spoke up, "There was nothing wrong on the initial scan, he was perfectly fine on the screen, it's just when I tried to print the images that it went weird. I'm sure it's just a malfunction of the machine."

Hermione nodded and, when the doctor and the technician went back to talking about getting scans done again for her records, Hermione pulled out her wand and pointed it first at the young woman.

"Confundus," she whispered. Instantly, the woman stopped speaking and looked extremely confused. Her mother gasped, drawing the doctor's attention as Hermione turned her wand on him. He had just enough time to frown at the wand in her hand before she whispered, "Obliviate".

Hermione focused on her charm, ignoring her mother's small sounds of protest and erased all memory of the failed ultrasound from the man's memory. With another flick of her wand, she Vanished the sheets in his hands and turned to the technician to erase the memory from her mind as well. When she was finished she slipped her wand back into the sleeve of her jumper and sat back to wait for the two Muggles to come to themselves.

The doctor blinked and shook his head slightly. He quickly glanced around the room before smiling at her warmly. "Well, that's everything I believe. I'll just get your discharge papers ready, okay? And please, remember to relax more. If you have any other problems, come straight back."

"Of course," Hermione agreed, watching as the technician snapped back into reality. She smiled, looking a tad confused as to why she was there, and stepped out of the curtained off area after the doctor.

"Hermione Jean Granger!" her mother hissed the second they were gone. "What on earth did you do that for? That's not—it's not...that's wrong!"

"Mom," she said heavily. "I know that you don't agree with what I did to you and Dad during the war and I'm sorry that I couldn't ask you for your permission. We've been over this, I _had_ to protect you and that was the best way possible. In this case, I'm protecting myself _and_ this baby."

"I don't understand why—"

"The machine did not malfunction, mom. That was my baby's magic screwing with it, as magic is wont to do with Muggle technology. I'm actually surprised they managed to see a clear image on the monitor and that it only buggered up when printing them."

"This is about that secrecy law," her mother said softly, understanding dawning.

"Yes," Hermione said simply. "I cannot leave that kind of evidence behind us. If it was ever found I would be in more trouble than you can possibly imagine. The Muggles may never figure it out, but there's always the possibility that one might connect the dots to something else magic related. It's just better to cover our tracks completely.

"I don't like it," her mother said stiffly, probably remembering what it was like to have _her_ memories torn from her and only realizing after they had been replaced.

"I know. I'm sorry."

**xXx**

_**32 weeks:**_

Hermione had fucked up. All of her precautions had not been enough.

A little under a two weeks later, Hermione found herself choking on her morning orange juice as she glanced at the cover of _The Prophet_.

**Scandal within the Golden Trio: Hermione Granger pregnant?**

**Rita Skeeter**

In a shocking new development it has come to light that late last week a report was filed with the Ministry's Auror Department regarding the unauthorized use of an _Obliviate_ on two poor Muggles. Who cast the charm you ask? None other than Hermione Granger; the famous friend of Harry Potter and assistant in the final downfall of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. The infamous woman, only twenty five years old, is currently an Auror with the Ministry of Magic. However, a little digging reveals that all is not well with Granger and her employers, even before she had modified unauthorized memories. Granger, the epitome of perfection if her friends are to be believed, was recently put on desk duty for reasons that remain unknown—or do they?

While Head Auror Kingsley Shacklebolt, is keeping mum on the subject, this respected journalist was given an anonymous tip about the _Obliviate_ report which, for those readers who don't know, is usually not monitored for an active Auror. Since Granger is no longer partaking in field duty, however, her usage of certain spells was once again put under civilian like scrutiny.

If this is what Granger does with her wand while working under civilian status we, as the concerned press, must wonder what she has gotten up to when there are far less restrictions placed on her?

But the question still remains: Who did Granger charm and why?

The report states that two Muggles from a hospital in London were the recipients of Granger's wand but the mystery of why is not immediately apparent. Surely, the Brightest Witch of Her Age wouldn't have performed any open magic in front of Muggles, would she? Surely she couldn't have been accidentally caught with her wand out? One would think that such a supposedly brilliant witch would know better!

It is this brilliance that is now being called into question with the recent revelation that Miss Golden Girl herself was admitted into the Muggle hospital early last week because of issues related to a _pregnancy_!

The Muggle documents state that Granger arrived at the hospital after she experienced some abnormal bleeding during an outing with her mother (also a Muggle) in a Muggle shopping centre. Based on the information found, it seems that all is well with Granger's seven month pregnancy and that the babe, a boy, is safe and well. However, more questions have arisen! Colleagues of the Golden Girl profess complete ignorance of her state.

"She had been acting a tad odd lately," confesses one co-worker, who wished to remain anonymous, "but it wasn't anything big so I didn't think anything of it, you know? Sometimes those Aurors, they get funny when they're stressed out. Remember old Mad Eye? He was a queer duck."

It seems that Granger has a lot more than just stress to deal with! We have to wonder, who is the father of her babe and why has he not come forward to claim both the woman and child? With her connections to the Muggle world it seems possible that the father may be a man wholly unconnected to our world and unaware of the situation. Even more likely, the wizard who fathered the babe has no interest in marrying the mother—but who could blame him?

It will come as no surprise to some readers that Granger would find herself in such a predicament. Being Muggle-born herself, her lack of understanding when it comes to Wizarding customs or morals is most likely at fault. It will come as no shock to this journalist if Miss Granger attempts to bring up her child on her own. We have to wonder how her ex-beau, Ronald Weasley, and dear friend Harry Potter will feel about the news. This reporter feels most sorry for those who are associated with her and for the child who will undoubtedly suffer for his mother's transgressions.

More news to come as the story unfolds. Stick to the Daily Prophet and read the news as it happens!

Hermione had barely finished reading Skeeter's vile words when the first owls started coming in. They swooped into her kitchen, dropping letters and scrolls on her table before swooping right back out. Letter after letter piled up on her morning toast as she stared at the paper in her hand with a sinking feeling of horror settling in her gut. It wasn't until the first Howler arrived that she snapped out of her daze and realized that she had to do damage control.

"Morgana!" she called out to her barn owl, snoozing on her perch in the sitting room, seconds before the first Howler exploded.

_Hermione Granger! You are a disgrace to the name of Wizard! How dare you—_

Hermione tried to block out the screeching woman's words as Morgana swept into the room and landed on her shoulder, glaring a tawny eye at the shrieking red envelope. Her brown and white feathers ruffled delicately as the Howler finally burst into flames and silence rang through the flat.

Hermione reached for a spare bit of parchment, ripped it in two and wrote the same thing on each note in a shaky hand: _I'm not coming in today. Sorry. –Hermione. _

"Take one of these to Kingsley and the other to Lavender, please?" she asked, rolling them up and tying them to her foot as Morgana cooed softly. "Thank you, beautiful."

When they were secured to her feet, Morgana took off out of the kitchen window and nearly collided with another owl that was trying to deliver yet another letter. It dropped the missive on top of her growing pile and circled back as she stared at the pile, half waiting for the letters to attack her.

_This isn't happening, is it?_ She groaned and threaded her hands through her hair. _No, it's definitely happening. Merlin's fucking tits._

She heard the soft cooing of another owl as it glided through her open window with a red envelope clutched in its beak. Part of her wanted to close the window on them but she knew that that was unfair to the poor owls who were only doing their job. With a sigh she heaved herself out of the chair and turned for her bedroom with a sick feeling in her stomach.

If she wasn't going to go in to work this morning, she may as well go back to bed.

Hermione had just pulled the covers up when she heard the screeching of yet another unknown voice telling her what a horrible human being she was. She pulled the blanket over her head and tried to block out the world but she had a sinking feeling that it wouldn't work.


	5. Chapter 5

**Cliché**

**This one is considerably longer than the previous chapters because I wanted to get a move on with the plot so I hope you enjoy it!**

**Massive thanks to Izzy whose help was pivotal to the telling of this story. I have not, as of yet, had children of my own and the little details are a direct result of Izzy answering my sometimes extremely random emails. Love you dollface! **

_**33 weeks:**_

"Lavender, I can't leave my bloody flat! It's insanity!" Hermione cried. Sitting in front of her fireplace she bitched to Lavender's floating head. She wrapped both arms around her stomach as she felt her son do a barrel roll inside of her and mentally reminded herself that she was supposed to be relaxing and staying calm.

"Well, I was talking to Kingsley about that, and the whole fact that you can barely get to work," Lavender said, her face tinged green from the Floo. "He thinks that since you're due in a couple weeks that you should work from home."

"A couple weeks?" Hermione repeated. "I'm not due for another _seven_ weeks! Am I supposed to hide out in my apartment for nearly two months!"

"Actually, I was going to ask if you wanted to come stay with me for a bit," Lavender said. "You can stay until the baby is born... or longer if you'd like."

Hermione smiled. "Be careful what you wish for, Lavender."

Her friend's head moved in a way that suggested she was shrugging but since she couldn't see the other woman's shoulders, it was hard to tell. "Ah well, I'm not worried about it. I _am_ worried about you and the whole stress thing you were talking about. Why not try it for a week, see if you feel better? I've got a spare room, you know..."

Hermione sighed. She had to admit, it was a good idea. It would get her away from the reporters that had been hounding her non-stop since Skeeter's story broke and hopefully that alone would decrease the amount of stress she was currently feeling. It had quickly become bedlam outside of her apartment, even though it was a Muggle neighbourhood, and she couldn't leave her place without being accosted. Many of them seemed to have little care for her or the baby, as long as they got a picture of her and the belly she was no longer bothering to hide. One morning she was trying to leave her flat and go to work when she was knocked into hard by a reporter and had it not been for a parked car next to her she would have fallen to the pavement. The reporter didn't care, however, as he shoved his camera in her face and demanded for the billionth time to know who the father of her baby was. It was then that she decided to stop going out.

"Can I think about it?" Hermione asked.

"Of course," Lavender assured her. "The offer is indefinite. You just let me know."

"Thank you," Hermione said. "I appreciate it. I just don't want to be a burden to anyone."

"You're not going to be a burden, don't worry Hermione," Lavender assured her. "It's not like you're an invalid, just really, _really_ pregnant," she laughed, eyeing her extremely large belly. Hermione had gotten used to having no lap but Lavender was still adapting and she couldn't seem to tear her eyes away from it. The day she had _seen_ the baby moving under Hermione's tight skin had been extremely entertaining—Lavender constantly watched her belly for signs of movement now.

"How are you doing...with everything?" Lavender asked softly and Hermione knew exactly what she was referring to.

When the news had broken that Hermione was pregnant, and that she had no intentions of naming the father of her child, the Wizarding world had gone into an uproar. Harry had been hounded until he gave a public statement where he declared that he was supporting Hermione in any and all of her decisions. The press had had a field day with speculating whether or not Harry was the father, something that Hermione had wanted to publicly deny for his sake, but Harry had convinced her that it was unnecessary. Ginny knew that Harry had not fathered her child and that was all he gave a shit about.

Worse had been when they cornered Ron.

He had given an interview and in it he made it clear that he had had no idea she was pregnant, that she had hidden it from everyone in his family, and that under no circumstances did he support her decisions. He stated that he spoke for the entire Weasley family when he said that Hermione Granger would no longer be welcome at any of their respective homes or in their company.

It had gutted her, more than she would ever admit to either Harry or Lavender. Even though Harry had assured her that Ginny didn't give a shit—actually, Ginny had also assured her of that when she had shown up at Hermione's flat the day after Ron's article ran—she hadn't heard from any of the other Weasleys and it hurt. She had hoped, even though part of her knew it was in vain, that Molly Weasley wouldn't turn her back on her. They had fallen out of touch when Hermione broke it off with Ron but whenever she had seen the older witch in public she had been embraced and kissed and invited over to lunch—something that she had always wanted to but didn't dare accept. She didn't want to make things awkward between Molly and Ron.

"It's okay, I guess," she admitted. "I haven't really heard much from people I know, just strangers who love to tell me that I'm going to hell," she grimaced.

"Would you believe me if I told you that they don't matter?" Lavender asked, gently.

"Yeah," Hermione shrugged with a small smile. "I knew it was going to happen but knowing it and experiencing it are two different things, you know?"

"Yeah, I—"

Lavender was cut off by a loud rap at Hermione's door. She had warded it early on so that no one except for her friends could actually make it to the front door, which meant that whoever was on the other side was someone she knew. She turned back to Lavender.

"I better get that. Can I call you tonight?"

"Sure thing, take care Hermione," Lavender said, gave her a bright smile and pulled her head out of the fire with a small _pop!_

Hermione stood up slowly, using her favourite armchair to help her, and made her way over to the door. She opened it up a crack and sighed in relief as she saw Harry on the other side.

"Come on in," she said, opening up the door for him.

He came in, his eyes widening at the sight of her belly. She had seen him many times over the course of her pregnancy but most of those times had been while she was still wearing her charmed robes from work and he had not seen her in person in recent weeks, only through the Floo.

"Wow, you've gotten big," he said as she closed the door. He reached out to touch her belly with no hesitation and a small smile flitted across his face as he did so. "How is it?"

"He," she said with a smile. "It's a boy."

"Really?" Harry said, his eyes darting up to hers, excitement clear in his expression. "You decided to find out, then?"

"Not quite," she confessed, moving into the kitchen. "The Muggle doctor let it slip. I'm not upset that I know, though. It's kind of...nice. I've been thinking about names."

"Oh?" Harry asked, joining her in the kitchen as she put a kettle on. She had stopped drinking caffeinated tea but it was a habit that was ingrained in her—company is over? Put the kettle on.

"Yeah, I really like Sebastian. What do you think?" she asked.

"Hmm, different. I like it," Harry said, sitting down at the table. "Not very English, or Wizarding."

Hermione sighed. "What if I don't give a shit about what the British Wizarding public wants?"

"Hey," Harry held up his hands. "I'm not against it, I'm just saying."

"Yeah, well, I don't care, okay?" Hermione crossed her arms over her very large chest and even larger belly. "With what they've been saying, my choice of names for my baby should be the least of their worries."

"True," Harry agreed and watched as she poured him a cup of tea and made herself a hot chocolate. They were silent until they were both sitting at the table and Hermione was blowing on her hot drink.

"So, what brings you by today?" she asked, taking a small sip.

Harry grimaced. "I...well, Snape is looking for you."

"_What_?" Hermione said, dropping her cup to the table. The hot liquid sloshed over the sides and Hermione whipped back her hands to avoid it. "What do you mean he's looking for me? Why?"

Harry's eyes darted from her hands to her belly, to her face and she didn't like the expression that he adopted. "I was hoping _you_ could tell _me_ that."

"I don't know!" she yelled, aware that she was acting hysterical, even though she couldn't seem to stop herself. "I don't know what he wants. What did he say?"

"Not much," Harry admitted, his eyes narrowed at her. "But he was frantic, demanding to see you, to speak to you. He insisted that it was 'of the utmost urgency'."

"I...I...," she trailed off, not knowing what to say that would make Harry stop looking at her as if he knew everything.

"He's the father, isn't he?" Harry asked, his voice quiet.

"I...I...Harry...," she tried.

"Hermione, calm down, it's not good for you or the baby," Harry said, reaching over to pat her hand. "I don't care if it's Snape. I mean—I kind of care, it's a bit weird, you know? But mostly I just care about you."

Hermione stared at him for a heartbeat before she promptly burst into tears.

"You need to tell him, 'Mione," Harry said softly. "I think he already knows, anyway. He suspects, at least."

"I can't Harry, I can't," she sobbed. "I kept it from him for so long. I just can't."

**xXx**

_**35 weeks:**_

Hermione was pacing a hole into the hearth rug in her sitting room. She had moved in with Lavendera few days after she had made the proposition and so far she had not regretted it at all. They worked well with each other and since Hermione was working from home—as per Kingsley's orders—she was able to make sure that their dinner was ready by the time Lavender got home from the Ministry. The other witch had declared that Hermione might not be allowed to leave when the baby was born simply because she had gotten used to not having to make dinner.

Now, however, she was waiting for Molly Weasley to show up at her old, mostly uninhabited flat.

Hermione had warded Lavender's apartment so that only Morgana could deliver mail to her and so Molly had had to go through Harry in order to set up a meeting. Hermione hadn't known what to think of it, she had no idea what it was that Molly wanted to say but given the woman's past habits of yelling first and thinking second, and she wasn't sure she had made the right choice.

Not for the first time did Hermione wonder whether or not Skeeter had been right when she had called her so-called brilliance into question. She had forgotten about her spell privileges being revoked when she left active duty and she had willingly invited Molly Weasley to have it out at her in the privacy of her own home.

What had she been thinking?

She didn't have time to berate herself any further on the subject as her fireplace sprang to life with bright green flame and Molly stepped out of it, brushing soot off of her robes.

Hermione stopped and stared at her. Molly looked up from her robes and stared back.

They met each other's gaze hesitantly until Molly broke it first and fairly gaped at Hermione's stomach. She watched as the older witch's eyes bugged out of her head and she took a steadying breath.

"I knew that you were pregnant but...," Molly trailed off, seemingly unable to tear her eyes away from the evidence.

"Hearing it is one thing, seeing it is another entirely?" Hermione guessed, repeating her own words to Lavender.

Molly's eyes finally drifted upwards and met Hermione's. "Exactly."

Hermione didn't know what to say after that and she fidgeted under Molly's scrutiny until the older witch took pity on her and sat down in an armchair. Hermione, spurred on by Molly's movement, took a seat on the couch.

"You look good," Molly said softly. "I'm glad that you're taking care of yourself."

"I'm trying," Hermione said. "I had a little incident but...I guess you've heard about that."

Molly nodded, looking down at her lap."It's not that uncommon, to get a bit of the bleeds. I had them for every one of my pregnancies."

"Did you?" Hermione couldn't stop herself from asking. She had wanted to talk to Molly so badly when she had realized that she was going to keep the baby—this woman had had _seven_ magical children; if she couldn't tell her what to expect, no one could, but she had been terrified of asking.

"I did," she nodded. "And I freaked out the first time, too."

Molly smiled at her slightly then, and Hermione felt a little bit of hope flare in her chest.

"I'm glad I'm not the only one," she said, softly.

"No," Molly said. "You're definitely not. You're not the only young woman to find herself pregnant and unmarried, either."

There was something about the way that Molly said it that made Hermione look at her curiously. Molly's inability to meet her eyes spoke volumes. Taking a deep breath, the woman began to talk.

"When Arthur and I were young, we were a bit foolish. We always planned to marry but we had thought that we would wait a little bit after graduation, my mother was positive that I would change my mind with time," she explained. "I knew that I wouldn't, but we thought that we would appease her and wait a year. We weren't in a hurry at the time."

"But then, I got pregnant and things changed. Arthur and I got married as soon as I found out because we knew that there was no way our families would let us wait once they learned of it. We made it quick; it was smaller than what my mother had wanted, but we didn't want to go through months of planning and have someone realize. It was all over and done within a matter of weeks and shortly after that we announced that I was expecting Bill. Everything was happened so close together that no one realized I was pregnant when I walked down that aisle."

Hermione stared at Molly, unable to form words. She knew that there had been a time when Molly Weasley had been Molly Prewett; that she had been young and silly girl at one time, she just couldn't picture it.

"Hermione, please marry the father of this baby," she said, suddenly. The statement startled her and she frowned at Molly. "Don't look at me like that. Marry the man and end this nonsense. They won't stop taking shots at you as long as you're unwed. Even if you marry someone else later, if it's not the father of this babe, they won't accept it."

"I can't, Molly, I...," she tried, unsure of what to say.

"Why not?"

"He doesn't know, for one, and I don't think we'd make for a very happy marriage," Hermione said.

"You can work at it, can't you?" Molly asked. "You clearly cared enough for him to get like this."

Hermione's cheeks flushed with the implications and she found that she couldn't tell Molly that it was a drunken one night stand that had gotten her 'like this'. She didn't want the woman to be any more disappointed in her than she already was.

"I really don't think so," she admitted. "What happened was not...out of love."

Molly was silent for a moment before she nodded silently. They sat there quietly for a few minutes before Molly suddenly stood.

"I'm sorry," she said softly. "I should be going. I'm glad that you and the baby are healthy."

Hermione swallowed thickly as she realized the shift in Molly's behaviour and the reasoning behind it. She watched, her fists clenched in her lap and her heart beating painfully in her chest as Molly reached into the Floo powder and called out 'The Burrow'. By the time the green flames swallowed the other woman there were tears were running down her cheeks. She sat there, watching the fire slowly fade into nothing and felt her heart break just a little bit more. She knew it was hard for Molly, someone who had been brought up so traditionally, but part of her had hoped that she had truly loved Hermione like a daughter, or at least enough to ignore what the public would think and be there for her.

Apparently not.

Hermione stood on shaky legs and headed for the hearth. She grabbed a handful of the fine grains, dropping the powder into the empty grate and calling out 'Lavender Brown residence' as the green flames consumed her.

Stepping out into Lavender's sitting room, Hermione barely managed to brush her clothes clean before she sat down hard on the couch and curled up as much as she could around her swollen belly to cry. Huge sobs heaved out of her, shaking her frame and making her stretch out so as to be able to breathe easier. She blindly reached for the throw that Lavender kept folded over the back of the couch and pulled it over herself, hiding her head from the world.

She woke to the sound of a knock on the door of Lavender's flat and she sat up groggily, glancing blearily at the clock over the mantel. It told her that it was far too early for Lavender to be home, which meant that it could only be one other person: Harry. Sitting up, she briefly contemplated ignoring the door and going back to sleep. She had no energy to deal with anyone else today and a large part of her simply wanted to wallow in her own misery some more. A second round of knocking resolved the issue for her and, with a huge sigh, she hauled herself off the couch.

Making her way to the door, Hermione rubbed the sleep and dried tears out of her eyes before she opened the door. As predicted, Harry stood on the other side. He gave her a tight smile and stepped into the apartment, filling up the place with his restless energy as he shifted his weight from foot to foot. Hermione eyed him speculatively and unconsciously tensed.

"What's up, Harry?" she asked warily.

"How did your meeting with Molly go?" he asked instead.

"Not bad," Hermione said vaguely, not really wanting to talk about it.

"Good, that's good," he said, nodding distractedly. He was not paying close enough attention to notice that her eyes were puffy and that she looked like shit. "I know you don't want to hear this, Hermione, but I think you need to see Snape."

"Harry, please—" she began.

"No, Hermione, listen to me. You have to tell him. He's driving _me_ nuts looking for you, he's gone everywhere trying to find you. He's even tried here but you've warded it within an inch of your life so he can't actually get in. Does that sound like someone who doesn't care?"

"What? Care about what, Harry?" she demanded.

"When you first found out you were pregnant you told me that the father wouldn't care. Snape clearly cares, and he doesn't even know for sure that it's his, he just suspects. Someone who doesn't care wouldn't try this hard to find you."

"Harry, please leave this alone, I'm begging you," Hermione said wearily.

"No, Hermione, listen to me—"

"NO!" she snapped, her rage coming on sudden and fierce. "YOU listen to me, Harry Potter! This is MY life, not yours! I will make the decisions here! I don't want him to know, and that's the end of it! You can either accept it, or not, I don't care anymore! Just _leave me alone!_"

With that, Hermione whirled around and stomped away feeling every bit the child as she did so. Tears welled in her eyes and fell down her cheeks, hot and uncomfortable, as she hurried to the guest room that Lavender had so graciously given her. She didn't even bother to let Harry out of the flat. He could damn well figure it out himself because she was going back to bed.

**xXx**

_**37 weeks:**_

When she had moved in with Lavender, Hermione had brought the little CD/Radio that usually resided in her kitchen. Like her fascination with the telly, Lavender took to it instantly. Hermione usually sang along to music as she cooked or cleaned, it was what helped passed the time for her during mundane tasks and after taking up residence with her friend she gained a backup hummer. Lavender had started to learn some of Hermione's favourites but it seemed that the other witch was usually content to listen or hum softly.

"I don't want to talk about it to you," she sang softly, mixing the batter in front of her with a steady rhythm. "I'm not an open book that you can rifle through...

Lavender sat at the kitchen table, situated in the middle of the room, and mashed bananas for Hermione to add to the batter when she was done. Her blonde head bobbed in time to the music playing and every once in a while Hermione would catch her mouthing the words.

"You're begging for the truth," Lavender lip synced, "so I'm saying it to you."

They heard a knock at the door and Lavender got up to answer it with a quiet word. Neither of them were expecting company but it wasn't unusual for Lavender's mother to pop by on the weekends, especially on Sundays. She would usually bring them something to eat, marvel over Hermione's belly and tell her to eat more. It was clear where Lavender got her sweetness from; despite being a half-blood and raised in the wizarding world, Mrs. Brown didn't give a rat's ass that Hermione was unwed and pregnant.

"Now I'm just a basket case without you...," Hermione murmured the words as she turned around to see if Lavender's banana mash was done and finish it if need be. When she looked up, however, it was to find Severus Snape standing in the middle of the kitchen with his eyes glued to her stomach.

"JESUS CHRIST!" Hermione shrieked, stumbling backwards and catching herself on the counter. He looked just like he had the day they came across him outside the Ministry. "What are you doing here!"

"I...," he opened and closed his mouth but nothing further came out as his eyes darted between hers and her belly.

"I brought him," Harry's voice said as he stepped into the kitchen, Lavender behind him. Her smile fell as her eyes darted between her former Professor and her roommate.

"You _what?"_ Hermione spat, her eyes narrowing on her friend. "You had no _right_! I thought I asked you to STAY OUT OF THIS!"

"He has a right to know, Hermione!" Harry yelled back, crossing his arms over his chest defiantly. Hermione opened her mouth to start screaming when Snape cut them both off.

"I would thank you both to stop speaking about me as if I am not in the room," he said coolly. He seemed to regain his composure and was able to drag his eyes away from her large stomach. His gaze, when he met hers, was calm and unemotional. "Is Mr. Potter's assumption correct? Is it mine?"

"No," Hermione spat, leaning forward to grasp the back of a chair with flour covered hands. "It most certainly is _not_ yours! He's mine! You and Harry can both just fuck off!"

"Hermione—," Harry began.

"Shut up, Harry," she yelled, tears beginning to form in her eyes. "I told you stay _out_ of it. Why couldn't you just listen to me?

"Because Snape has the right to know that you're carrying his son!" Harry yelled. "And if it was me, I'd want to know!"

"IT'S NOT YOUR DECISION!" she screamed, taking a step towards him with every intention of smacking him silly. The movement, however, set off a sharp pain in her abdomen and she couldn't hold in the gasp any more than she could stop herself from pressing a hand to her belly.

"Hermione?" Lavender rushed forward and Hermione belatedly remembered that she was even there. "Are you okay? What is it?"

"It—," she gasped again and clenched her eyes shut. "Oh, no. It hurts. Stabbing pains, Lav, stabbing ones!"

"Okay, okay," Lavender said, pulling out a chair and guiding her towards it. "You sit, I'll get the bag."

"What? What bag? Hermione?" Harry asked, all of the anger drained from his face and replaced with concern. Lavender paid him no mind and rushed past a shell shocked Snape to run up the stairs.

"Hermione?" Harry knelt in front of her, grabbing hold of her hands as she tried to breathe evenly.

"I think you sent me into labour you, _asshole_," she spat, glaring at him. She was absolutely livid with him but that didn't stop her from holding on to his hands like a drowning woman.

"I...what? You can _do_ that?" he asked, his eyes darting between her and her belly.

"Do I look like I'm fucking with you?" she sucked in a breath as she tried to hide a grimace of pain.

"What do I do?"

"You get out of the way," Lavender announced, coming back into the room holding two duffle bags. One contained clothes for Hermione while the other held everything the baby would need. "I'm taking her to St. Mungo's."

"I'm coming," Harry said immediately.

"Yes, yes, just help me get her up," Lavender said, impatiently. They both reached for Hermione and helped her stand as she continued to try to take deep and even breathes, waiting for the next surge of pain. Together the three of them managed to waddle their way to the Floo. Harry had just reached for the powder when another pain hit Hermione, stronger than the others, and her knees gave out.

"Oh, fuck!" she yelled, dropping to her knees.

"Hermione?" Harry turned to her just as Snape swept into the room.

"Move, Mr. Potter," he said. His was voice smooth and calm as always but as he slipped his forearms under Hermione's armpits she could feel that he was shaking slightly. He helped her stand, making sure she was steady, before he leaned down and swept her into his arms.

"Snape!" she yelled. "Put me _down_!"

"Mr. Potter, if you would," he nodded towards the fireplace. Harry nodded and flung a fistful of powder into the fire. "St. Mungo's," Snape called as he stepped into the green flame.

Hermione tucked her head into the crook of his neck and pulled her feet in as they spun. She felt her hair flying around everywhere and she clenched her eyes shut against the world just as the spinning stopped and Severus stepped out of the grate with her in his arms.

"Sir?" a voice asked.

"This young woman has gone into labour," he said calmly, making Hermione wonder how he could be so collected at a time like this.

"Lay her down here," the voice said and Hermione found herself being lowered onto a magical stretcher and looking up into the face of a young medi-wizard.

"Hello there," he said kindly, smiling at her. "My name is Roger. Can you tell me how far along you are?"

"Thirty-seven weeks," she said, her eyes darting to Severus as she did. His lips thinned in response and she _knew_ he was doing the math in his head.

"Okay, we're going to get you to a Healer, okay?" he said, tapping the side of the stretcher so that it would follow him. "How far apart are you pains?"

"They were coming in close together but they've since slowed down," Hermione told him as Snape followed them out of the lobby and into one of the many hallways.

"And have you experienced any practice contractions?" he asked, weaving his way deftly through the halls. Hermione had no idea where the hell they were going or how she would get out later but she figured it didn't really matter.

"Not really," she said. "A twinge or two. I had an incident with spotting at 8 months."

"Did you come here?" he asked.

"No, Muggle hospital."

"You should have come here," he said, but there was no anger in his voice.

"I know, but I was trying not to advertise it," she said, glumly.

Roger turned and grinned at her at that. "Yes, I recognized you but it's not exactly professional to point it out, is it?"

"Oh, thanks," Hermione said, smiling softly.

"If we could get back to the point?" Snape asked pointedly. "Is she going to be okay?"

"Well, we have to wait for a Healer," Roger said, pushing open a door that led to a brightly coloured room. "But giving birth at thirty-seven weeks is not considered premature. That being said, since your contractions have slowed down the Healer will probably want to attempt to stop labour and keep the wee man in there for as long as possible."

"The 'wee man'?" Severus echoed, a look of complete and utter distain on his face.

"Well, we _do_ get the paper in here, you know," Roger grinned at Severus, despite the scowl on the other man's face. "Anyway," he quickly darted a look a Hermione before he addressed Severus once more. "Are you the father?"

"Yes."

"No."

Severus and Hermione glared at each other while Roger stood between them awkwardly.

"Uh," his eyes darted between the two of them. "Only family members or the other parent can be in the room..."

"My friend's will bring my mother soon enough, I'm sure," Hermione told Roger as pleasantly as she could. "In the mean time, I think I'd prefer to be alone."

She glanced at Severus and had to look away from the cold fury on his face before he turned and stormed from the room, leaving a very confused Roger in his wake.

**xXx**

A few hours later it turned out that Roger had been right. Healer Bray, the attending mediwitch, had decided to stay her labour with a handy little potion and keep her in the hospital for observation for a couple of hours. Harry had brought her mother shortly after she had taken the potion and Mrs. Granger had questioned her daughter endlessly about the tall, dark haired man pacing the hallway outside of her room until Hermione had faked being tired and her mother had left the room.

Hermione lay back against the hospital bed and thought about Sever—_Snape_, she told herself firmly—being out in the hallway with her mother and probably Harry and Lavender, too. What would they be talking about? Would they be telling him about her pregnancy? Did she want them to?

No, no she did not. It was none of his business. He didn't even know that it was his, only Harry had said that, she had not confirmed it.

What would she do if he asked for a paternity test? Did she have any right to deny him? She didn't know enough about wizarding law.

She couldn't help but think back to how fixedly he had stared at her stomach, his eyes wide and his face—for the first time in her memory—void of emotion in a way that did not mean he was hiding himself behind a mask. He looked as if he was so shocked that he didn't know _how_ to feel as he stood there in Lavender's kitchen.

And the way he had scooped her up in his arms as if she weighed nothing? She was no romantic fool but there was a part of her that fluttered happily at the fact that his first notion was to carry her, bridal style. It didn't escape her notice that he didn't seem to balk at the extra ten pounds she had put on during the pregnancy.

She shook her head, trying to physically dislodge the thoughts from her head. _Stop being an idiot_, she chided herself. _He's your one time lover, not boyfriend, or even your partner in this._

"Hello dear," Healer Bray walked into the room with no warning, her mother following behind her. As the door swung open Hermione could see Snape come to a standstill and Harry hunched against the wall outside her door. She met Snape's gaze for the barest of seconds before the door swung shut on him and she turned to the older witch.

"Now, we're going to send you home for hopefully at least two more weeks," she began. "I've been told that both of your incidents of hospitalization—the bleeding and now this false labour—were triggered by stress. Most women are not as sensitive as you or perhaps you are under a considerable amount of it, either way, I'm going to prescribe you a very mild version of the Calming Draught," she pulled out a piece of parchment from her robes. "I want you to take a teaspoon with breakfast, lunch and dinner. It won't knock you out but it will keep you in a very relaxed state for the majority of the day."

"It's okay to take, even with the baby?" Hermione asked.

"It will not harm the baby," the Healer reassured her. "It is mild enough and you won't be taking very much of it. Now, our last bit of business is this nasty bit of paperwork."

Healer Bray took out a rather long scroll of parchment and held it up for Hermione to read 'Confidentiality Agreement' across the top.

"It's not standard practice but I thought you might want to sign one of these with the hospital," she said, tapping it with her wand and charming it stiff. "It stops any of the hospital employees from releasing information about you, your records or your whereabouts in the hospital to the media without severe repercussions. They're not supposed to do it anyway but we both know that people talk, this makes it more legally binding that you are not to be discussed outside of the hospital. You don't have to sign it, but I highly suggest that you do."

"Thank you," Hermione said, taking the contract and reading through it quickly before taking the self-inking quill that Healer Bray had ready for her and signing her name at the bottom of it.

"Perfect," Healer Bray said. With another tap of her wand the parchment rolled up and she put it in her pocket once more. "Now, have someone pick up the Calming Draught for you. I suggest either having someone competent brewing it for you, I'll include a copy of the instructions, or purchasing it from Potage's in Diagon Alley."

"I see you have plenty of people to escort you home, so I'll let you get on your way," Healer Bray said with a smile. "Try to stay off your feet, okay?"

"I will," Hermione agreed.

"Good, I don't want to see you for another two weeks!" she winked at Hermione before letting herself out.

With a deep sigh, Hermione turned to her mother who had a strange expression on her face.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"Is that man out there the father?" she asked softly.

"Let it go, mother," she said just as quietly. Swinging her legs over the edge of the bed, she quickly dressed in her maternity clothes and picked up the bags that they had brought but not needed. "I don't want to talk about it."

"Hermione, you should at least—," but Hermione was not listening. She strode out of the room and found herself face to face with Harry, Snape and Lavender. Snape was still angry, she could tell by the tightness around his lips and eyes; Harry was watching her warily, as if expecting her to lash out at him again; Lavender simply looked worried.

"I am to go home and rest, to stay off my feet as much as possible, and to take a mild Calming Draught three times a day," she announced to all of them. "Harry, would you mind stopping off in Diagon Alley and getting this for me?" she handed him the parchment the Healer had given her, complete with the instructions on how to brew it, not that Harry would need that part.

She turned to Severus and felt her stomach turn to stone at the hard look in his eyes. "Can we just...talk later? I don't have the energy to have it out with you right now."

He seemed to debate on saying something but after a moment's hesitation he simply nodded, his dark eyes watching her carefully as if she were going to disappear...or keel over.

"Can we go home now, Lavender?" she asked, trying not to sound pitiful.

"Of course," she smiled. "Just think of all the _relaxing_ you get to do now! You'll put your feet up and do _nothing_ all day long. Doesn't that sound like _fun_?" Lavender teased.

Hermione groaned dramatically, letting Harry take the bags from her hands. "I wish this baby would just come already, at least I wouldn't have to worry about being bored," she grumbled, mostly to herself.

"You'll be eating those words in a month, I guarantee you," Mrs. Granger said from behind her, causing everyone to turn and look at her with surprise—though it was probably more because they had forgotten she was there. "What?" she asked, seeing their expressions. "Have any of _you_ raised a child before? I have. They're a pain in the ass."

Lavender snorted, Severus' lips twitched and Harry chuckled.

"Thanks for the vote of confidence, mom," Hermione said tiredly, but with a smile. "I'm glad to know that I was the apple of your eye."

Mrs. Granger snorted. "If that boy inherits any of your habits, you're in for a lot of sleepless nights. Did you know that you loved to babble even when you were an infant? You'd be up for a feeding at 4am but you wouldn't stop yammering on after so I'd have to walk around with you for an hour until you passed out again."

Hermione rolled her eyes as Harry fairly choked on his own tongue.


	6. Chapter 6

**Cliché**

**Okay, listen up! Two things to address this week:**

**First – My profile may be pulled. If that does happen, this story is also on Granger Enchanted. The short and sweet of this latest development is some crazy bint of a mother sent me a nasty PM about my Twific Lessons Unexpected. Apparently I am responsible for the fact that her underage daughter uses the internet to read M rated stories. Needless to say, she got a scathing reply. Still, she has probably reported me and while all my stuff is backed up I figured I'd let you guys know.**

**Second – A lot of people have rained criticism on Hermione and while I agree she definitely deserves it, I ask that you give her a little room for error here. Keep in mind that Hermione has only known one version of Severus—the arsehole version. She's frightened and in a lot of ways she's alone in this. Her mother can only relate on so many levels, Lavender is clueless about what she's feeling and Harry sure as shit can't even begin to put himself in her shoes. Give her a little time to get her head on straight. I think this update will be enlightening in that regard.**

_**38 weeks:**_

By the end of her first week of confinement, Hermione was bored to tears.

Everyone had been extremely busy, even her mother, and so her visitors had been few and far in between. Not that she had had many to begin with as only Harry and her mother—and now Snape, she reminded herself—knew where she was staying. She finished up all of the research she had been working on and sent in her final reports before her maternity leave, she read the several books she had been meaning to look at and even started keeping a journal.

Still, she found herself with ample time on her hands when she wasn't allowed to get up to make dinner, or walk to the sitting room, or the..._anything_. Hell, she would have rejoiced at the opportunity to clean the bathroom.

Despite being bored out of her tree, she did not go batty as everyone thought she would have and for that they thanked the mild Calming Draught. She went through her days with a very relaxed feel about things; it didn't cloud her mind or alter her judgment but rather made her a lot more accepting and indifferent to things she couldn't change—like her confinement. Harry thought it was bloody brilliant.

When, towards the end of her first week, Harry finally made time to see her, she was ecstatic—as much as she could be from her bed, at least.

"Harry!" she beamed at him. "Thank god you're here, I was about to start charming Crookshanks into different colours just for the entertainment value of seeing him in bright purple."

Harry eyed the very relieved looking cat as he scampered out the now open door and laughed. "With the way your magic has been, you'd probably turn him into a Pygmy Puff. Poor animal. Remember when Ron tried to turn Scabbers yellow?"

"Sunshine, daisies, butter mellow, turn this stupid, fat rat yellow," Hermione intoned dutifully, a grin on her face despite the mention of her most likely ex-friend. "I don't know why he ever thought that would work, especially for a Pureblood wizard."

"It's Ron," Harry shrugged as she sat down on her bed, as if this explained everything. And it did.

"Come sit," Hermione patted the bed beside her small mountain of pillows that served as her back rest. "Tell me everything."

"There's not much to tell," he laughed and began relaying stories about the English National Quidditch team and the practices they had had over the week. She was content to listen to little anecdotes about people she didn't really know and smile at all the appropriate times because it was a break from her mundane routine. By the time Harry wound down, she was slouching in her pillows, watching him gesticulate with his hands as he explained a complicated move with a small smile on her face. She missed the days of Harry and Ron trying to make her understand Quidditch.

"Sounds like you guys have been keeping busy," she said softly, tucking a pillow under the side of her belly as she rolled over to face him. "So what brings you by today if you've got so much going on?"

"Well, I wanted to see you. Do I have to have a reason?" he asked, avoiding her eyes.

"Harry James Potter, you're a bad liar. You're worse than I am. Spill, what was your mission?"

"Ah...well," he ran a hand through his hair and looked at her warily. "It's about Snape."

"You would think that after so many years you would be able to call him Severus," Hermione said calmly, surprising Harry when she didn't immediately bite his head off. He remembered the Calming Draught and grinned.

"You call him Snape," he pointed out.

"Only because I'm unsure about how I feel about him," she admitted. "In my head, he is Severus."

"I guess that's a relief, considering our little guy there," Harry said, pointing to her belly.

"Our, eh?" she grinned at him.

"Damn right," Harry said with a mock fierceness. "That's my nephew in there, I'll have you know."

She smiled lazily and rolled her eyes at him. "Yes, yes, I know. You're excited to be Uncle Harry, aren't you?"

"You have no idea," he beamed at her. "I can't wait to be a father, so this is like...almost there, you know? That doesn't really make sense, does it?"

She smiled and shook her head. "It doesn't matter, I know what you mean. I've been adept at translating your blathering for years."

"Why thank you," he said wryly as he reached over and ran his hand over her belly. "Your mother is very mean to me, little Sebastian."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "I haven't decided on that name, yet."

"Have you asked Snape about names?" Harry asked, not taking his eyes off his hand. "I'm sure he'll have an input."

"I'm sure he does," she sighed. "I just don't...know how to approach any of this. And part of me, a big part, really doesn't want him involved. I know that's selfish and probably wrong on several levels but...it's how I feel."

"Why?"

Hermione blew an errant curl out of her face with a huff of frustration. "I guess I'm afraid of how he's going to react to everything—to me getting pregnant. Will he even believe me when I tell him that it wasn't planned? I wasn't taking a contraceptive potion at the time, so he probably has a legitimate reason for thinking I got up the duff on purpose. And even if he doesn't, I don't want or need his pity, or his _anything_, really. He's got a temper, you know that very well, and I don't want it turned on me yet again. I had enough of it when he was my teacher, thank you very much."

"Ah, but now you can hex him for being snooty," Harry said, taking his eyes off his hand long enough to flash a grin at her.

"I don't think _anyone_ would have the balls to describe Severus Snape as _snooty_," she laughed. "A vindictive git? Yes. Snooty? No. You're thinking of Percy Weasley—which now that I think of it, I'm sure he'd kill you on the grounds of comparing him to Perce anyway."

"I can take him," Harry winked and patted her stomach. "Ain't that right little man? Uncle Harry can take your Daddy...as long as it's a fair fight."

Hermione snorted. "All is fair with Slytherins Harry, and for the record?" she waited until he looked up at her before she continued. "I think he'd trounce you."

"Such faith," he muttered as the baby nudged at his palm, almost as if it agreed with his mother. "Oh, not you too? You're not even out here yet and you're siding with her? I don't care if he's your Da, you need to side with Uncle Harry now and then, you hear me?"

"So," with one last pat, Harry withdrew his hand from her belly. "You don't need him...but do you _want_ him?"

Hermione looked away, feeling unaccountably guilty at his questioning. "I don't know," she admitted softly, looking down at the enormous swell of her belly. It really _did_ look like she was carrying an oversized beach ball under her shirt. Only the outrageous changes in her body and the feeling of him doing summersaults in her negated that theory.

"I don't know...I just...I don't know if what I want is _him_ or if it's just to not feel so alone in this, so out of my depths," she admitted. "I'm terrified of letting him in, but at the same time...I want him to share this with me. I just...I want _him_ to want it as much as I do but I don't want to take the chance that he doesn't. Maybe I'm crazy, Harry, maybe it's just the hormones talking."

She sighed and ran a hand through her unruly hair. "At the same time I don't want to commit to something with him and then one day I'll wake up next to him and realise that I don't love him. I couldn't do this if I didn't, Harry. I know that—well, someone came to give me advice about the whole situation and she basically said that I should marry the father of my baby, no matter what, but I just can't do that. It's not fair to him, or me, but it's especially not fair to our son. My child will not grow up in a house where his parents obviously dislike, or even hate, each other."

Now that she had started, it seemed like she couldn't stop and the words poured out of her as she wrapped her hands around her son. "Could you imagine, Harry? Weekends and part of Christmas with Daddy, or the 'Mummy has a boyfriend, no, he's not your Daddy' talk? Merlin, no. Wouldn't it just be better if there was _no_ Daddy, Harry?"

He sighed and ran his hand through his hair, making it stand on end. "Children need father's Hermione," he began and, seeing her open her mouth, he held up a hand to stop her. "I'm not saying that single mother's can't do it on their own and do it bloody brilliantly, or that those children are somehow deficient because they grew up with only one parent but this isn't a situation where the father is dead, or where he doesn't want the kid, and...as someone who grew up with _no_ parents I can tell you that there will be a hole in his heart that only his father can fill."

"And what if he doesn't _want_ to fill that hole, Harry? What if he decides halfway down the road that this isn't his cup of tea? He's not exactly well known for his love of children, or is your memory that short?" she asked, struggling to sit up.

"Give him the benefit of the doubt Hermione," Harry said impatiently. "Listen to yourself! You haven't given him a _chance_ to decide if this is what he wants. You didn't even do him the courtesy of telling him that he's got a kid, I had to do that for you."

"He doesn't, dammit!" Hermione snapped and it seemed that the effects of the Calming Draught were at an end. "This is my child, and I swear to god Harry Potter, I will kill anyone who tries to take him from me!"

Harry was silent for a second as her outburst sunk in and the proverbial light bulb turned on in his head.

"Is that what you're afraid of?" he asked softly. "That he'll take your son away from you?"

"I don't know," she whispered, looking away as tears began to fall down her cheeks. "I don't know Harry, I don't know anymore. I don't know anything," she began to cry harder and let him pull her into his embrace.

"I don't know how I let this happen," she hiccupped. "Or how I'm going to do this once he's born. I'm terrified, Harry. I've never felt so fucking alone, so unprepared. All I know is that I can't live without him anymore. I thought, before, that I could give him up when the time came, give him to someone who knows what they're doing, but that's not possible anymore. I'll kill them all first."

If Harry was shocked at the promise in her words, he didn't show it. Instead he rubbed his hands up and down her arms, soothing her silently with his presence. "No one is going to take him away from you," he whispered eventually, "and certainly not..._Severus_. I highly doubt that is what he wants. You said it yourself, he's not exactly the first person you think of when you imagine a father figure, do you? I think he knows it, too. If he cares enough to want to be part of this child's life, I can't see him wanting to take him away from you when he probably knows how ill equipped he is to raise a baby on his own. He has less of a clue than you do," Harry chuckled softly. "And _that_ is definitely a first."

Hermione sniffed wetly but she cottoned on to his humour. "Are you saying Severus is smarter than me, Harry?"

"Er...no?"

"Good answer," she gave him a watery grin.

Harry rolled his eyes but continued on with his point. "I don't know if you realize this, but Wizarding law won't let him take the baby unless you're deemed to be an unfit mother, and we both know there's not a chance in hell of that," he gestured around the guest room were packages upon packages were waiting to be installed into her flat once she figured out where she was going to put a nursery. "Not that this necessarily makes a fit mother," he added quietly to himself, thinking back to his own childhood.

"I'm afraid I'm being stupid but...what if he _doesn't_ want this baby, Harry?" she asked quietly. "What if he sneers at me, calls me a foolish little girl for getting knocked up and then walks out in all his robe flapping glory?" she made little hand flapping motions with her hands as she said this, making Harry burst into laughter.

"Oh, Hermione," he pulled her closer and planted a loud kiss on the top of her head. "I'm glad to see you've retained your sense of humour." Hermione snorted. "I think that if he ever hears you say that he _will_ walk out."

"No," she shook her head softly. "He'll just find some terribly clever and roundabout way of calling me stupid and then we'll start sniping at each other like children."

"You said it," Harry chuckled. "Not me!"

Hermione smiled and Harry gave her a gentle squeeze around the shoulders. "I know you're right Harry, I do," she admitted. "And I feel like an asshole for throwing him out of my room when he bloody carried me into the hospital but I...I don't know. Maybe I can blame it on the hormones but every time I think about having this inevitable conversation with him I think I just might be sick."

"I think that Snape is used to inspiring that kind of terror," Harry said, trying to keep the conversation light. "He's made it into an art form."

Hermione shook her head but she didn't smile. "I was never scared of him Harry, not even when he did his best to make us shit ourselves in class. I didn't always trust him," she admitted softly. "I'm not one of those idiots who looks back and says 'I always knew he was loyal' because I didn't. I doubted him, just like I was supposed to, and maybe it's because we spent what should have been our Seventh Year far away from him that I was never exposed to the things he had to say and do, to allow, in order to keep his cover but even when I thought he was a traitor, I didn't really fear him."

She paused, thinking over that time, long enough gone that it no longer hurt to think about. "Maybe I was just too stupid to be properly afraid."

Harry shrugged behind her. "I dunno about that, I kind of agree. It's hard to be afraid of someone when they have knowingly and willingly put their body between you and a werewolf—then again, I spent the better part of my adolescence hating him too much to fear him."

"Do you still hate him?" Hermione asked. "Especially now? With what you know about...us?"

Harry seemed to think his answer over before he opened his mouth. "Hate him? No. Dislike him? Sort of. We'll never be friends, I don't think, and I'm not sure it's something he wants. I respect him, admire him even, he's a powerful wizard and an honourable man but hecan be quite an arse, eh?" He grinned at her. "I suppose that's on purpose, though. Recent events don't really change my opinion of—No, actually they do. I was shocked when you confirmed my suspicions about little man's father but it's seeing him freaking the fuck out while you were in that hospital room that's really made me think differently of him." Harry looked down at her with a small smile. "I can't speak for him, obviously, but I really do think that he wants to be part of this boy's life. You didn't see him 'Mione. That man never loses control of his emotions, he never shows them at all really, but he lost it in the hallway when that trainee, or whatever, told him that he wouldn't give us any information on you or the baby without your permission."

They sat in a comfortable silence as Hermione tried to picture it. Part of her mind used the image that she had glimpsed briefly of Severus halting abruptly in order to stare into her room as the door opened and it was only then that she recognized the look on his face: panic.

"Give him a shot, Hermione," Harry murmured, sitting up and sliding to the edge of the bed to stand up. He met her eye squarely as he straightened and asked, "Or are _you_ going to take away his right to choose now, too?"

Hermione didn't say anything as he left the room quietly but he knew that she was deep in thought. He slipped out of the room and gently closed the door behind him, nodding his head to the tall, dark haired man standing in the hallway looking rather uncomfortable with where he was.


	7. Chapter 7

**Cliché**

**I apologise for the mistakes and the lateness. Both are explained away by the fact that I'm going on somewhere near 30 hours without sleeping. **

**Warning: This chapter contains brief discussion of violence and suicide. If that is a trigger, skip the paragraph where Snape discusses bits of his childhood.**

**Other than that, enjoy Hermione and Severus sitting down to a chat.**

_**39 weeks:**_

Hermione found herself, once again, restless in front of a fireplace.

Only this time she wasn't allowed to pace to ease her nerves and the setting was Lavender's sitting room instead of her own. Rather than wearing a hole into her absent friend's hearth rug, Hermione had to settle for sitting on the couch and jiggling her leg like a maniac. Her most recent check up with Healer Bray resulted in the woman threatening to tie her to a bed if she didn't rest more. Sebastian—she had finally decided on that name—was unsettled by either the rhythm or her nervousness...or both. He flopped around in her belly, sticking his foot into her ribs and making her gasp as it pushed against her lungs.

"Settle down, young man," she told him, trying to sound stern the way she imagined a mother should.

He flopped some more.

"Setting the precedent, I see," she muttered, rubbing her hand over her belly and trying to still her leg. Her foot twitched.

Without warning, the fire jumped and climbed high enough to accommodate a very tall person as it turned bright green and Hermione's leg started up without her conscious permission.

Snape—_Severus_, she told herself this time—stepped out and brushed the soot from his robes as his eyes immediately sought out hers.

Hermione's stomach jolted, flipped, and then tied itself in a knot. He looked good, yes, but it was more than that. She was just so bloody _nervous_ about this. She had seen the man naked—she didn't remember all of it, of course—so why was she scared of sitting down to talk like civilized people?

"Hello," she said softly. "I'd get up but...," she gestured at her stomach and shrugged. "He is kicking the crap out of my pancreas currently."

A comment that was meant to lighten the mood only seemed to make the tension mount as Severus' eyes darted down to her stomach and his brow drew together. She wondered what was going through that head and whether or not he was thinking about everything that he had already missed because she hadn't told him about the pregnancy and maybe he was thinking about how much he hated her and that she was a horrible—

"How are the two of you today?" he asked softly, obviously trying. He looked awkward, standing there, his hands balled into fists and his eyes glued to her belly.

"Anxious," she admitted and he finally looked up at her. His face softened a fraction, she thought, or maybe she was imagining it. "Would you like to sit down?" she gestured to the couch beside her but when he moved it was to the chair beside the fire.

Sitting stiffly, his back ramrod straight, he stared at her and she tried valiantly to meet his gaze. She couldn't do it, however, she felt too guilty and she looked down first. Her mind absently noted that there was a strange dark smudge on her light green long sleeved shirt. It was right where she tended to brush up against things with her stomach so she figured she had merely rubbed up against something dirty recently and not realized it.

Severus took a deep, steadying, breath and for a fraction of a second Hermione was afraid that he was about to start yelling. Instead, he quietly asked, "Is he my son?"

Hermione bit her lip, hard. So hard that her eyes watered a bit. Her stomach jumped and her palms broke out in a cold sweat but she nodded, eyes on the floor, and quietly said, "Yes. He is yours."

"How can you be sure?" he asked in that same mild mannered tone.

Her head shot up and she glared at him as he met her gaze calmly.

"If you think suggesting that I am a whore is going to endear you to me, you're sadly mistaken," she spat. "He is your son because you are the only man I have had sex with in over a goddamn year, unless immaculate conception is still a legitimate excuse, in which case, I choose that one."

His eyebrows rose ever so slightly at her outburst and he asked, "Are you not supposed to be calmer with the draught you should be taking?"

"You bring out the best in me," she felt ridiculously close to sticking her tongue out at him. "And Harry hasn't been by to give me my new bottle yet."

Severus frowned at that and reached into the pocket of his robes, the same ones he used to teach in, pulling out a small bottle of familiar green potion. He placed it gently down on the table beside the armchair without a word. Hermione frowned at it before holding her hand out instinctively and Summoning it.

"_Accio bottle_," she said and winced as it slapped into her palm with a lot more force than it normally would have. She caught Severus' look and shrugged. "My magic is out of whack. Usually I'm just happy when I don't blow anything up. I've stopped using charms on myself for fear that I'll spell all my hair off by accident."

Without waiting to see his response, Hermione turned to the bottle in her hand and unconsciously slipped her other one over her belly, quietly "shh"ing the flip-flopping baby inside her. She was completely unaware of the way Severus studied her and her hand while she studied the bottle.

"This is the same stuff that Harry brings me," she said suddenly, her head popping up. "You're brewing it, aren't you?"

"I am," he nodded slightly. "The pre-made product is inferior to freshly brewed, it loses its potency as it sits but the clerk will still sell it to you, of course. Mr. Potter was not proficient in Potions enough to know this; I am surprised you would trust him."

Hermione's lips quirked a little. "Would you rather I ask Lavender? Or my mother?"

"You could have simply asked me," Severus said, meeting her gaze squarely. "Had you told me of the situation, I would have helped you in any way available to me."

Hermione looked away guiltily. "Forgive me for thinking that it—"

"No," he interrupted, his voice suddenly hard. He didn't have to raise his voice to send shivers of unease down her spine. "I cannot forgive you, not even close. You kept the knowledge of my son from me, you never intended to tell me if you could get away with it and for that, I cannot forgive you."

"I didn't think that it was something you would want," she said quietly, unable to meet his gaze dead on. Instead she spoke to his cheekbone. "You cannot blame me for coming to that very logical conclusion Severus, you hate children."

"You don't know _anything_ about me," he sneered at her and her heart clenched. This was what she had been afraid of and yet, she couldn't deny him his right to be angry. "You think that one fuck makes you an expert in my personality?"

"Of course not!" she said, her eyes snapping to his as her anger rose. "But I _do_ have a very good memory of your treatment of children. Why on earth do you think I'd want that for my son?"

"You think I would—?" he broke off, disbelief written across his face. "I admit that I was never particularly _nice_—" Hermione snorted and he glared at her "—to my students, but they were my _students_, not my _children_."

She frowned at him, not really seeing the difference. "Throughout my years as your student you displayed a spectacular inability to hold in your temper. You rarely shouted but you didn't have to, you cut your students down by saying the cruellest of things to them. You made many of them cry and it was clear that those episodes entertained you. You were extremely unfair when you didn't like a student or their House, you blatantly displayed favouritism with your House and you purposely picked on Harry because he happened to look like a man who picked on _you_ as a child. You expect me to rejoice at the fact that you are my son's father?"

Severus reared back as if she had slapped him and for a second she feared that she had gone too far, that he would lose his composure now or storm out of the flat in a fit of rage but he did neither. Instead, he stared at her and tried in vain to hide how much her words had affected him.

"I see, now, what you think of me," he said, looking down at his clasped hands that dangled off of his knees. "It is a wonder how you ended up... in this situation in the first place if this is how you view me."

When Hermione offered no comment, he continued. "I agree that I was not—am not—the most pleasant of men. I was unfair to —Harry—as a child. I admit that when I looked at him, I saw his father, and I played my role of faithful Death Eater in regards to him a little too well at times. For that I am...sorry." Hermione's eyebrows were nearly swallowed by her hairline but he wasn't looking at her and so he continued. "As to my behaviour with your peers...yes, I was hard on them but I will not excuse it. Did I take joy in their tears? Not so much, though it did amuse me on some level, that I will own to. I justify my actions, however, with the fact that Potions can be a very dangerous subject and if I do not instil fear into my students, make them terrified to disobey my word, horrific accidents can and _will_ happen."

"That's a bit pessimistic," she retorted, her mind drawn unwillingly to Neville.

"It's realistic," he said. "Your friend Longbottom is a perfect example; his fear of me was not the only reason why he failed horribly in my class. He managed to melt his cauldron even when Horace taught potions, did he not?"

"You didn't make it any easier on him," Hermione argued. "In fact, one could make an argument that had you not scared the pants off of him for the first five years of his education he may have been prepared for Potions by the time he had the good fortune to be taught by Professor Slughorn."

"You may have a point," he conceded. "However, we will never know."

"And yet, you expect me to trust you with my son and his happiness," Hermione continued, her voice calmer but her words no less cutting. "What happens when he makes a mistake, Sna—Severus?" she winced at her inability to articulate his name but soldiered on. "What about when he accidentally breaks something, especially if it's valuable? Will you dress him down, humiliate him and make him feel ashamed for simply being human?"

She crossed her arms over her considerable stomach and watched him defiantly, daring him to contradict her assessment of him. He was silent for a long time, so long that she was sure he wouldn't actually respond. Just when she was about to say something else, he finally looked up at her.

"I don't expect you to know this but when I was a child my father made me feel inferior because I was born a wizard," he said quietly, looking at his linked fingers. "He was a Muggle, you see, Tobias Snape. My mother, Eileen Prince, was a Pureblooded witch who fancied herself in love with him when she was young and stupid."

Hermione didn't really know how to feel about that, or what to say, so she went with the first thing that came to mind that wasn't inane. "I knew about your mother," she said softly, causing him to look up curiously. "I have something of yours; I suppose it's about time you got it back."

Holding her hand out and leaning away from it slightly, she called out, "_Accio Snape Potions Book_."

Immediately there was a whizzing sound and Hermione had to dodge the flying Potions textbook. It smacked into the back of the couch where her head had been and slid down to nestle against the small of her back. She reached behind her and pulled it out, holding it out to him.

Slowly, he rose and walked over to her to take it from her hands. He stood there beside her, holding the book as if he didn't quite know what to do it. Part of him almost seemed afraid of it.

"This book is the property of the Half-Blood Prince," she said softly and his eyes darted to hers. "It took me a while to figure it out; actually, I thought it belonged to Tom Riddle for a while. He was arrogant enough to think of himself as a Prince but it was the Half-Blood part that threw me off. He never would have advertised his blood status. You, though, are the Half-Blood son of Eileen Prince, student of Slytherin and member of the Gobstones Club during her own time at Hogwarts."

"This book is...it is full of the ramblings of an angry young boy," he said, slowly sitting down on the couch next to her. "I hope that you...that is—I'm not sure if I should say thank you or not."

She smiled slightly. "If it means anything, I had forgotten about it until you mentioned your mother's name."

"I think it does," he said, putting it down on the couch beside him and sliding it away from him. "It does not hold happy memories for me. I'm not sure I want to keep it, if I am honest."

"Because of the Mauraders?" she asked softly, finding that her curiosity overrode her irritation with him.

"Partly," he admitted. He hesitated then, and she was shocked to see that she could read the indecision on his face. Whatever he warred with, he seemed to come to a conclusion as he continued. "Those idiots were not the only reason for my unhappiness, however. The loss of Lily's friendship was another part, of course, but my parents were the most significant players." He hesitated once more, for the barest of seconds, before he finally leaned back into the couch, his hands curled gently in his lap and his gaze fixed ahead at the fireplace. "My father was a drunkard and he often took his aggression out on my mother. Why she never defended herself against him, I'll never know. Perhaps it was simply part of her upbringing, to obey her husband in all things, even when he was breaking the bones of her face. She had the power to stop him, there was nothing he could have done to her had she chosen to stand up for herself, but she didn't."

Hermione was slightly unnerved by the quiet, calm, expressionless way he spoke but she found that she could not take her eyes off of his face, waiting for a hint of emotion. She knew she would get none. "The only time she used her magic against him was to stop him from going after me when I was younger. As I got older she stopped defending me and I started defending myself. He preferred it when I used my fists against him, he could retaliate against that. He couldn't do anything to me if I used magic and he knew it but I couldn't until my Seventh Year. By the time the Christmas break came 'round that year it was too late. He murdered her shortly after Halloween and committed suicide by putting a Muggle gun to his head in the back yard. The Aurors had to Obliviate several Muggle police officers who had arrived before them and seen the magical items in the house."

Hermione wanted to reach out to comfort him but she could see from the rigid way that he held himself that such attention would not be welcome. The flat tone with which he spoke told her that he buried the emotions attached to the memories behind that indifference because it was the only way he knew how to deal with it. A little part of her heart broke for him against her will. She so wanted to see him as the 'bad guy', the man incapable of love and affection, but it was hard to keep looking at him that way as her mind conjured up images of a lonely little boy looking for acceptance.

"I tell you this not because I want your pity or your sympathy," he spat the words with contempt. "I tell you this so that you might understand that I would do anything," he turned to her, his brown eyes alive in a way she had only seen once before, "_anything_ to make sure that my son does not grow up the same way I did."

Hermione nodded slowly, feeling a bit numb. It was the only thing she could do. She didn't really know what to say, she needed time to digest what he had told her, needed to...she didn't even know.

"How do we go forward?" she asked, quietly. "You said that you cannot forgive me for not telling you and I...I can understand that," she admitted, rubbing her hand over her swollen belly. "I imagine I would feel the same way, were it the other way around, but perhaps...I could earn that forgiveness."

She didn't dare look at him, embarrassed at her awkward words and how much she found that she meant them. She _wanted_ Severus in her life, if not for her, then for her son. She didn't know if she could marry this man, or if he even wanted to take that step with her, but she knew that Harry was right: Sebastian deserved to have his father in his life.

"I would like that, Mis—Hermione," she looked up in time to see his grimace. "I want to be a—a father to him."

"Sebastian," she said softly, watching his reaction.

"Sebastian," he repeated, mouthing the name a few more times and nodding seemingly to himself. "Sebastian."

"Do you like it?" she asked tentatively, wondering if this would be their first disagreement.

"I do." She felt a little tension leave her when he replied without hesitation. "It's unique, one that is not commonly found in the Wizarding world of Britain. Of course, neither is Severus."

She smiled slightly. "Harry said the same thing, about it not being popular in Britain. He thinks that might be yet another reason for Skeeter to have a field day at my expense."

He was about to say something when she grimaced in pain and pressed a hand against the side of her belly. A pain shot through her lower abdomen but it was gone almost as soon as it started. She had been having what Muggle's called "Braxton Hicks" contractions for a couple days but Healer Bray had assured her that there was no need to worry. She had switched over to fully magical medical care when the news broke about her pregnancy and there was no longer any reason to hide it. The poor Healer had gotten a frantic Floo call the first time it happened after she left the hospital. The woman had smilingly reassured her that her womb was 'practicing for the big show', a thought that made Hermione picture a stage and snort derisively.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah," she sighed, rubbing along the area with her hand. "It's apparently normal to experience small contractions in the weeks leading up to the actual birth. It hurts a bit but not that bad."

He nodded, his face contemplative, and his eyes fixed on her stomach.

"You don't seem surprised by this news," Hermione stated, watching him.

He looked up at her then and gave the slightest of shrugs. "I've been doing some reading," he admitted quietly. Hermione didn't know what to say to that and her shock must have shown on his face because he quickly changed the subject.

"What is a field day?"

She took the change and ran with it. "Muggle expression. It means that she's going to go at me as much as she can and enjoy every minute of it," Hermione shrugged.

"I am...sorry that this has happened," he admitted. "I feel rather foolish but I...I don't..." He trailed off and frowned at his hands.

Hermione smiled genuinely for the first time since he arrived. "I do too, feel foolish that is. I can't believe we didn't use a spell but...I don't regret him." She paused for a second, her hand rubbing over her belly. "Do you?"

He looked up at her and silently shook his head, his eyes blazing in the reflection of the low fire.

"I'm glad," she whispered, looking down at her 'buldge' as Lavender so eloquently put it. "That doesn't mean I'm not terrified."

Severus' lips twitched then, his eyes following the path of her hand. "I can share that sentiment."

"At least I'm not the only—oh!" she reached out and grabbed his hand without thinking, used to sharing these moments with Harry and Lavender. She brought his palm to her cotton covered stomach and pressed his fingers against the spot where their son was currently twisting himself into what felt like intricate poses. She knew the instant that Severus felt him moving because his eyes widened momentarily before they closed softly and his face relaxed.

"Meet your son," she said wryly. "I hope you know your healing spells."

Severus opened his eyes to look at her, confused. She smiled.

"I'm no Seer but I predict many skinned knees in our future."

Sebastian kicked, as if to confirm her statement.

Closing his eyes once more, Severus pressed his whole hand firmly against her belly and felt his son perform a slow roll against the large palm.

"I think you might be right."


	8. Chapter 8

**Cliché**

**Holla!**

**So it was brought to my attention that I should make note of it when I change the little details of canon so that I don't confuse people. Last chapter I mentioned Neville in Slughorn's class, which never happened in canon because he didn't get the requisite marks from Snape to continue. Next time I will mention it if I'm going to change things like this. I apologise if I confused you at all and thanks to RavenclawBabe for pointing it out.**

**Warning:**** Birth scenes. I don't think they're graphic but I tried to be realistic with my limited knowledge. **

_**40 weeks:**_

"So when are you going to tell me what happened between you and Professor Snape last week?" Lavender asked, pushing away her empty bowl.

"Not much," Hermione said, fiddling with the remains of her own pasta as the pair of them sat at the kitchen table. "We talked a bit. We haven't really gone into depth about anything. I think we're both kind of avoiding it."

"Well he's been over here every single day since so you must have said something to him," Lavender arched an eyebrow at her in a poor imitation of the man and Hermione grinned.

"We...I apologised for keeping my pregnancy a secret from him," Hermione admitted. "I asked if it was at all possible to earn his forgiveness and he said that he would like that—now that I think about it, he didn't even say yes it's possible but...I think that's what he meant."

She sighed and took a stab at a vegetable in her bowl. "We talked a bit about why I didn't tell him in the first place and he told me...," Hermione hesitated, thinking of how to explain what Severus had told her without betraying his confidence. "He told me what he wants for Sebastian's future, and what he doesn't want."

"Which is?" Lavender asked, her eyes intent.

"To be a good father for his son," she said softly. "To give him everything that he didn't have growing up, and more."

Lavender smiled slightly, looking down at her bowl. "That's what my mom always said to me, that she wanted to give me everything that she didn't have. It's one of those things I never understood until I was older...until I had lived through a war." Her voice became soft and her gaze lifted to the window over the kitchen sink.

Hermione nodded without responding, deep in thought. She knew what Lavender was trying to say: that she would do anything in her power to make sure her children never had to experience the violence and hatred that they had.

"I think that...that if anyone can..." Lavender sighed, seemingly frustrated. "I don't know him, not the real him, but if anyone can protect a child it would be him. Merlin knows he's done it often enough in his lifetime."

Hermione smiled softly and nodded once more, her mind going back to their previous discussion. Severus had seemed to accept her reasoning quite easily and now that she was thinking about it more, she wondered why. At first, she was just so relieved that they hadn't had a blow up, that he had sort of forgiven her for her deceit and that he was willing to go forward from there. Now, she wondered why there weren't more questions on his part. The Severus she knew was not so blindly trusting—but then again, did she really _know_ Severus Snape?

"So you're getting better at reading and translation the language of Snape, huh?" Lavender asked suddenly, her voice taking on that of someone forcibly pulling themselves out of a funk. Picking up her bowl, she stood and held out her hand questioningly towards Hermione's. The other witch passed it over, uninterested in eating what was left.

"He's not a manuscript, Lav," Hermione said, turning around in her seat and resting one arm on the back as the other woman dropped the dishes in the sink and they began to clean themselves. "It's not like he comes with a Snape to English dictionary. Though, that might come in handy if we're to be friends as I suggested."

"Friends, eh?"

"Mmhmm," Hermione hummed. "I asked him yesterday what he wanted from this...whatever it is that we have between us and he admitted that he wasn't sure. I suggested that we try to be friends first and foremost, for the sake of our son."

"Sounds reasonable," Lavender agreed. "But what are you going to do when all of a sudden there are pictures of you and Snape together with little Sebastian? It won't take them long to come to the right conclusions, you know, especially as the boy gets older. I imagine he'll look something like his father."

"I don't know, we haven't talked about it yet," Hermione admitted. "There are a lot of things we haven't talked about which...we probably should, huh?"

"Probably," Lavender agreed with a smile. She was about to say more when they both heard the Floo. "Are we expecting company? The tall, dark and scowling kind, perhaps?" Lavender teased.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Shut up, Lavender, or he'll hear you."

"What?" Lavender asked, overly innocent before she lowered her voice. "I'd say handsome, because he definitely looks better these days, but when he's always in those same robes I can't help but remember him as my teacher, and that's not exactly a turn on you—"

"Lavender!" Hermione shushed. "It's rude to—"

"Mind you," she quickly walked over to Hermione and lowered her lips to the other witch's ear, "those Muggle clothes he likes make his arse look fantastic so I can kind of see what you got knocked up for."

"And that's my cue," Hermione said, pushing her chair back and heaving herself out of it awkwardly. She had just passed the forty week mark and she felt like a _whale_ at all times. Lavender laughed loudly as Hermione waddled out of the kitchen.

In the sitting room she found Severus standing in front of the fire, his hands clasped behind him and staring into the fire.

"I must ask you something," he said as soon as she entered the room.

"Hello to you, too," she said cheerfully, slowly lowering herself onto the couch and grimacing as a contraction took her, it was stronger than before but it passed quickly.

"Is it a common pass time in this house to discuss me and my attributes?" He did not turn and look at her but she could _hear_ the sneer in his voice and, now that she was looking for it, she could see the rigid way he held himself.

She sighed. "Oh bloody hell," she groaned. "No. Lavender is just being...Lavender."

"Miss Brown is quite the expert on the topic of suitable male company, then I take it?" he spat.

"Hey!" Hermione said, getting defensive. "Lavender was teasing, being silly, and a little rude, yes but she meant no harm. In fact, if we're on the subject of things you shouldn't do and say, let's talk about eavesdropping, shall we?"

He spun around, his mouth open, but before he could make a scathing retort she cut him off.

"My mother used to tell me that if I was going to listen in on a conversation I better make sure I get the whole of it otherwise one jumps to the wrong conclusions, as you have. Had you heard the last bit of that conversation, which would be hard without a spell since she whispered it to me, you would have heard that Lavender actually finds you attractive and is beginning to see how I ended up pregnant in the first place."

Whatever he was about to say died on his lips and he closed his mouth with an audible click. Still, it did not take the wind out of his sails, merely Stunned them for a moment.

"Nonetheless," he said after a moment's thought, "I am disappointed to find that gossip is still the primary focus for Miss Brown. It makes me wonder at whether I should bother betraying any confidences to you, surely they will become fodder for midnight hair braiding sessions—if they haven't already."

Hermione actually rolled her eyes at him. "I know that this whole trust thing is new and foreign between the two of us, Severus, but we have to start somewhere. Would you like me to take an Oath?" she pulled out her wand and held it up. "Or perhaps a Vow?" she switched her wand to the other hand and held out her palm to him. "I'm afraid you'll have to come down to my level for this because I'm not getting up unless I absolutely have to."

"That will not be necessary, Hermione," he said harshly. "And to make light of such things—"

"I'm not making light of anything, I would appreciate if you did not put words into my mouth," she bit out, trying to keep her temper.

"And I would appreciate it if you stopped interrupting me!" he spat back.

She sneered at him in her best approximation of his favourite expression and said, "Perhaps when the useless drivel that insists on pouring from your mouth ceases, I'll be able to listen to an entire sentence."

He stared at her for a heartbeat, his face the picture of shock, before he composed himself and sneered back. "Indeed, perhaps I should forgo speech entirely?"

"That would certainly be interesting. I wonder, however, if you're capable of it?" she asked, her tone sweet now. Where was this coming from? She was enjoying fucking with him far too much to be rational. He seemed to be taking it in stride, however.

With quick, precise movements, he turned and sat in his usual armchair. Staring her down as if she were a naughty child, he looked the picture of a man who had all day to play this game. When he arched his typical eyebrow at her she felt her anger burst and dissipate as if it had never been.

"As entertaining as it would be to sit here and blather about as many inane topics as I could think of until you snapped," Hermione smiled wolfishly at the image she had conjured in her mind, "I have a serious question for you."

"Ah, the useless drivel suddenly has worth," he intoned, his voice deep and sarcastic.

Hermione rolled her eyes but chose to ignore the comment. Taking a deep breath she asked, "What do you plan to do when the public eventually finds out that you are Sebastian's father?"

He looked momentarily surprised, perhaps he had been expecting a different line of questioning but he shrugged nonchalantly. "I have no intentions of ever denying it. There is not much inheritance wise in being my child but what little birthright he has, it is definitely his."

"So you don't object to him being a Snape?" Hermione asked carefully.

She was watching his face carefully, it was the only way she had been able to tell how affected he was by her words. Over the course of the week she had taken to studying the man who seemed to pride himself on showing as little as possible. Now, in his eyes, she could read his profound shock. "You—I thought that he would have your name," Severus frowned at her, as if she had done something wrong. "I assumed that since we are not married that..." He trailed off and looked rather uncomfortable for a second before he cleared his throat and tried again. "If marriage is what you seek, I would—"

"What!" Hermione interrupted, suddenly feeling slightly panicked. Her emotions were giving her bloody whiplash and she closed her eyes, trying to focus on calming down. "No, that's not what I'm asking here. Friendship first, remember?" She was in no fit state to even _think_ about marriage, no matter what Molly Weasley thought she should do. "I'm talking about m—_our_ son being registered with the Ministry as Sebastian Snape, which is going to make the world as we know it explode. Are you prepared for that?"

"I am no stranger to bad press, Hermione," Severus said quietly and she opened her eyes.

"No," she agreed. "But this will be different, you know."

"I imagine it will be," he agreed. "Still, I shall manage. Will you?"

"Me?" She scoffed, affecting a tone of nonchalance. "I am the whore of Gryffindor, Severus. The princess turned slag, according to Skeeter. There's not much else she can say about me that will bother me."

"Acknowledging me as the father of your child will open you to many insults, Hermione," he said softly. "I was a Death Eater, I murdered Dumbledore," he stared hard at the floor between his shoes as he spoke. "I was your teacher. They will talk, and it will be nasty."

"Yes," she agreed. "They will, but it's been a long time since you were any of those things and I—"

Her words trailed off in a strangled sound as a sudden and hard contraction hit her. She clenched her teeth against the shock of the pain and held her breath, waiting for it to pass. It was longer and stronger than any of those that had come before it and she briefly wondered if she should owl Healer Bray to ask her about it. When the pain faded and she opened her eyes it was to find that Severus was sitting beside her, so close that his knees grazed hers, with naked concern in his eyes.

"Are you all right?" he asked and his hands twitched as if he were going to reach out to touch her but thought better of it. "Was it one of those...practice contractions?"

"I _think_ so. I've been having a lot of them today," she said, pushing herself up slowly. Severus followed with his hands ready to catch her if she stumbled. She headed for the Floo. "I think I'm going to call—"

Her next words were cut off as a distinctly warm rush of fluid escaped her, making her look like she had just wet herself. She looked down in horror at her maternity jeans and the wetness that was slowly spreading down her thighs. Without looking away from her legs, she reached back blindly for Severus and caught his sleeve.

"Um," she said, still staring in surprise. "I think—I think I need to go to St. Mungo's now."

"Are you...?" he leaned around her, his hands automatically finding the sides of her now thick waist and he peered down at her legs. "Oh."

"Yeah," she echoed, feeling slightly dazed. "Oh. Lavender!" she called, her voice coming out far softer and confused than she had intended. "My water just broke..."

"_What_?" Lavender came running out of the kitchen, sliding on the wood flooring, her eyes going unerringly to the large wet spot between Hermione's legs. "Okay, I'll get the stuff," she looked up at Severus. "Take her to the maternity ward Floo, ask for Healer Bray."

"Does she need anything specific?" Severus asked immediately.

"No," Lavender said, shaking her head. "Just be careful in the Floo, no banging arou—"

"I'm right here!" Hermione objected, snapping out of her daze. "And perfectly capable of giving directions."

Lavender simply waved her off as she ran down the hall and up the stairs to grab the bags for the second time. Hermione shook her head and sighed before turning to Severus. Why was her heart pounding so hard? Could he hear it? He could probably hear it.

"Ready for this? It's game time, you know," she said, trying to sound as if she knew what she was about to do.

"Something tells me this is going to be a lot more stressful than watching Quidditch," he muttered, turning towards the Floo with his arm still around her.

"You really shouldn't talk when _you're_ not the one expected to pass the Quaffle," she retorted and he almost smirked.

"Clever, that one," he said.

"I try," she said, nodding to the fire as he took a fistful of Floo. "Let's get going."

Severus tossed the powder into the flame and called out, "St. Mungo's Maternity Ward!" as they stepped into the swirling green flame.

**xXx**

For the first time in her life, Hermione felt utterly betrayed by a book. Or in this case, several books.

Labour was nothing, _nothing_, like they had said.

Clenching her teeth together, she paced along the length of her hospital bed, the patient robes swishing around her. They were exactly like the Muggles ones so she was wearing two in an effort not to flash Severus with her ass at every turn—not that he hadn't seen it before.

"Are you sure you don't want to sit?" he asked again. He had already asked that question. Once was one time too many.

"No!" she snapped. "It bloody hurts!"

"Don't bite my head off, witch!" he snapped back. "If you're in pain you should lie down!"

"When _you_ have an extra ten pounds attached to _your_ stomach we'll see how much lying down helps your back pain!" she grouched, pressing her hands to the small of her back.

"Merlin's pants," he muttered, getting up from the seat he had taken by the bed. "Come here," he grabbed her by the shoulders and guided her to sit on the bed. Once there, he sat down behind her and slid his hands down her spine, pressing his thumbs in hard and kneading the tense muscles.

"Oh, right there," she moaned, reaching back and grabbing his knee. "Perfect, right there," she sighed appreciatively as his fingers pressed into her aching muscles. Slowly, he worked his way up to her shoulders and then back down, tracing her spine. "Uuugh. Oh, harder Severus."

She heard the distinct sound of a snort from behind her and she pinched his leg. "Mind out of the gutter, git."

"You have a strange way of showing gratitude, Hermione," he said dryly, his fingers still working. "I have half a mind to stop."

"You're clearly suicidal, then," a new voice came from the direction of the door. They both looked up, Severus pulling away from her, at the same time as Mrs. Granger walked in.

"I wasn't kidding," she said to Severus, gesturing with a hand to Hermione as she shrugged out of her coat. "If a massage eases any of the pain, you best keep at it until your fingers fall off."

Hermione smiled tiredly at her mother. She was trying, clearly. She hadn't been ecstatic to hear exactly who the father of her grandchild was but in the two times she had seen him, both in the hospital mind, she hadn't let any of that show.

Severus tentatively reached for her again and as soon as his thumbs pressed into her muscles, she sighed happily. Mrs. Granger stepped up to the pair of them, cupping Hermione's face and kissing her head.

"See? Like puddy in your hands," Mrs. Granger smiled and brushed Hermione's hair off of her face affectionately as she watched Severus. "You know you've done your job when your arms go numb," she teased.

"Severus is a Potions Master, mother," Hermione smiled. "He's used to working with his hands for long periods of time."

"Is he now?" her mother said, even though she knew perfectly well what Severus' profession was. "And what exactly is involved in earning such a title, Mr. Snape?"

A glance over her shoulder told her that he looked startled to be addressed by her mother but he quickly covered it. "It is, I have been told, the equivalent to a Muggle P-H-something. I'm afraid I can't remember the name of it."

"PhD," her mother supplied.

"That would be the one," he agreed. "And please call me Severus."

Her mother smiled. "Harriet. It is a pleasure to officially meet you, Severus."

"Likewise," he nodded his head.

An awkward silence descended upon them and Hermione was about to attempt to break it up when she was hit with another contraction. Her back, which had been slowly relaxing, stiffened and she leaned into Severus as the pain shot through her.

"Don't fight it, honey," her mother said, reaching out and patting her leg. "Stop holding your breath, try to breathe through it."

"Kind of hard," she gasped as the pain receded. "They're getting closer together, though."

"Have you been checked?" her mother asked.

"Yes, I'm only 3cm though," she sat back up slowly, aware of Severus' hands rubbing up and down her back softly.

"We have a while to go then," her mother said, getting comfortable in the chair. Abruptly, and with no preamble, she changed the topic drastically. "Severus, we're a couple hours from being family. Tell me about yourself."

"Oh, crap," Hermione muttered and patted his leg where he still sat behind her. "I apologise in advance."

**xXx**

"How long has it been?" she gasped from her place on the bed. The contractions were only a couple of minutes apart now and with each one she felt like someone was jabbing at her insides with a dull knife.

"Just over six hours," Severus said quietly from his place by her bed.

He had surprised her when, after her mother's inquisition—which went better than she had expected, her mother kept it pretty superficial—he had assured her that he planned to stay for all of it. The actual birth was just one of the many things they had avoided chatting about directly. They spent their time talking about everything else _but_ their impending parenthood, the last couple of hours being no exception to the rule. They had been chatting quietly between contractions mostly about his shop and what had been working on recently. Her mother had slipped out about an hour previously to sit with Harry and Lavender, who were awaiting news in the family waiting rooms.

"You should be due for another check up soon," he said, almost to himself.

"This is not what I expected," she admitted, shifting and trying to get comfortable with the now constant ache in her lower abdomen.

"What did you expect?"

"Something horrifyingly painful, but fast," she said. "I feel stupid now, thinking that. It just never occurred to me that it could be hours of getting ready for the horrifyingly painful part."

"I've heard that it is different for every woman," he said, shrugging slightly. "It's not stupid to have unrealistic expectations of something such as this when you've never experienced it before."

She smiled, thankful beyond words that he did not sneer at her. In fact, she was more than a little overwhelmed by how well he had taken everything and wondered at either how much he had changed in the past eight years, or how little she had known him.

"Thank you for being here," she said softly. "It's more than I expected."

He looked at her, his dark eyes unreadable, but he nodded. They were silent for a while, both of them lost in their thoughts, when another contraction hit her. It was the strongest yet and she couldn't help but cry out in pain as her back arched off the bed. Severus was on his feet instantly and leaning over her.

"Should I call Healer Bray?" he asked, placing his hand against her forehead. She grimaced, not wanting him to touch her when she was so sweaty.

"Yes, please," she groaned. "I think it's almost time. That bloody hurt."

Severus reached over her bed and gently touched his finger to the small glass statue of a mediwitch sitting there. It was keyed to call a Healer if someone touched it. Scant minutes later and Hermione's door swung open to reveal a familiar young man being followed by Mrs. Granger.

"I heard you were back!" Roger said cheerfully, looking down at Hermione. "What can I do for you Miss Granger?"

"I need to see Healer Bray, please," she told him. "My contractions are coming in faster and stronger. I think it might be time."

"I'll go get her for you," he said with a charming grin before he looked up at Severus and the smile vanished. "If I remember correctly, you are neither family nor a spouse and so I must ask you to leave the room now."

"And I suppose you intend to remove me if I do not oblige you?" Severus asked coolly, staring down his large nose at Roger. His stance shifted ever so slightly and Hermione suspected that his right hand was now closer to his wand.

"No," she interrupted, reaching out and placing her hand over the long pale fingers that gripped her bed sheets in a choke hold. "Severus is family. He's the father of my baby."

Roger's eyebrows shot into his hairline and his eyes darted between the two of them with obvious disbelief. "Ah...my apologies, then. I'll call Healer Bray."

He turned and swiftly disappeared out the door.

"Well," Mrs. Granger said, watching the door swing shut, "he's a little shit, isn't he?"

"How uncouth, mom," Hermione chuckled.

"Oh please," her mother shrugged. "It's true."

Looking to Severus, Hermione found that the corners of his lips were twitching. Without thought, she squeezed his hand that still clutched at the sheets under hers and he looked at her curiously.

"Sorry," she said simply.

He shrugged and pulled his hand out from under hers as Healer Bray walked in briskly. A short examination later she confirmed that Hermione was almost fully dilated and they could get ready for the birth.

"Now, I know we talked about no pain medication during your last appointment but are you still sure you want to do that now that you've had a taste of it?" Healer Bray asked her, making Severus' head snap around and pin her with a glare.

"You're forgoing a pain potion?" he asked incredulously.

"I am, yes," she nodded to Healer Bray before turning to Severus. "There are some minimal risks involved in using a potion, especially if the baby has an allergy that we don't know about yet. I'd rather just deal with the pain than take the chance of hurting him."

"Are you sure?" he asked, his eyes darting between her and Healer Bray who was awaiting the outcome of the conversation.

"I am," she said firmly.

"And you still want to have a water birth?" the healer asked.

Hermione nodded her confirmation and watched as Healer Bray conjured a large, blue plastic pool and began filling it with water. It was almost ready when another contraction hit her and she had to grit her teeth against making a sound. This one was different in its intensity and the fact that she now felt the urge to push through the pain. Part of her was extremely relieved that that seemed to be instinctual.

"You can slip into the water, dear," Healer Bray said as soon as the pain had passed. "Don't worry about the robes, just be careful with your footing."

Both her mother and Severus held on to her as she slowly lowered her body into the warm water up to her breasts and sat on the edge of a soft platform. She didn't bother to hide the sigh of pleasure that the warm water created. It felt glorious on her already sore body and the buoyancy of the water took some of the pressure off of her lower back. With a quick charm, she secured her hair at the top of her head and then enjoyed the sensation of being practically weightless for the first time in months.

"Will you be joining her?" Healer Bray asked, causing Hermione to look up and wonder who she was talking to. She saw the older witch looking at Severus and she gaped at him as he nodded and began unbuttoning the cuffs of his shirt.

"You are?" She couldn't help but ask.

"If you do not object, yes," he looked down at her, a frown marring his brow. For a moment he seemed embarrassed but it was quickly gone.

"Of course," she rushed to reassure him. "I just didn't think you'd want to."

"I do," he said simply before following Healer Bray as she erected a screen partition and handed him a plain Muggle shirt and shorts. When he emerged from behind it, with his feet bare and his legs exposed, she couldn't help but stare at him. He looked so different, so _vulnerable,_ without the layers of robes or the buttoned up Muggle dress shirts. He caught her gaze and she thought she detected the slightest hint of a blush against his neck as he approached her.

That was when she realized that his neck was miraculously scar free. She stared as he slipped into the water beside her.

"How...?" without thinking, she reached up to touch his neck, her hand dripping water. He caught it easily and gently pushed it down, making her meet his eyes. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have," she murmured, feeling her face heat.

"Glamour," he said under his breath, his eyes darting to the Healer who had slipped behind the screen herself.

"Oh." She didn't know what to say to that.

Fortunately, she was saved from having to awkwardly change the topic when Healer Bray stepped out wearing a Muggle t-shirt and a pair of form fitting jogging shorts that covered her down to her knees.

"All right," she said, sliding into the pool with a slight splash. She quickly cast a Bubble Head charm on herself. "I'm going to give you one last check but I think we can start pushing with the next contraction. Daddy, I want you to get behind her and straddle the seat. She's going to need something to hold on to."

If Severus had any reaction to being called 'Daddy', he didn't show it. Instead, he simply slipped behind her, resting his hands gently on her waist as Healer Bray disappeared beneath the water.

Hermione felt the other woman gently urge her to open her legs and place them against a raised ridge that seemed designed specifically for that purpose. Gentle hands prodded at her and she grimaced against it.

"Are you okay?" Severus asked quietly, his voice right next to her ear.

"Yeah, it's just...well, awkward, to be honest," she admitted.

"Get used to it," her mother said wryly. Hermione had almost forgotten that she was in the room, she had been so quiet. "She's going to see more of your downstairs during this than you ever will."

"I don't envy her the view," Hermione muttered, making her mother snort as she let herself lean back against Severus. There was a gentle pat on her knee under the water and then Healer Bray emerged.

"On the next contra—,"

"Oooohhhh!" Hermione bit out, her head snapping back onto a bony shoulder as a wave of pain rippled through her lower torso. Her entire body tensed and she couldn't have stopped herself from pushing if her life depended on it.

"Push, dear, push!" Healer Bray urged, dipping below the water again. Hermione felt hands on her but she couldn't concentrate on them as the pain receded and she slumped against the man behind her.

"That was a good first try, sweetheart," Hermione's mother said, dipping her hand into the water and smoothing her daughter's hair off of her face with a wet hand. "Do you feel the urge to push yet?"

Hermione picked her head up and nodded. "Been feeling it for a while, before I got into the tub," she murmured, in a bit of a daze.

"That's good," her mother said. "This just might go fast then."

"Please Merlin, yes," she muttered as Healer Bray appeared again.

"Excellent," she said. "He's seated low and ready to come out head first, just like he should. The charm revealed that the cord is not around his neck and that his heart rate is still in the normal range."

"Still in the normal range?" Severus spoke up. "What does that mean?"

"The heart rate is always elevated during birth, Mr. Snape," Healer Bray said calmly. "Birth is a stressful experience for both mother and baby but as long as their heart rates stay within range, they'll be fine I assure you."

She could feel Severus nod and his body shifted minutely closer to hers so that his thighs surrounded her hips; his body was a direct contrast to the soft warmth of the water around. He was hard and angular, pressed against her from shoulders to hips, and though it was unfamiliar she still found reassurance in the contact. His hands came up from her waists and he held them in front of her, palms up.

"If you need something to...to hold," he said quietly.

Despite the fact that the man was willingly sitting behind her in a birthing pool, essentially cradling her body with his, she couldn't help but be shocked by how un-Snape-ish he was being. Yes, they had been spending time getting to know one another but this was yet another example of how little she actually knew him. Looking down, her eyes were unerringly brought to his wet forearm and the faded Dark Mark there. She had never actually seen one so close up before, it had been the last thing on her mind the night they fell into each other, and without thinking she reached up and traced it with the tip of her finger. Hermione felt him stiffen behind her and she thought that he might be about to withdraw when another contraction hit her and she clamped down on his arm.

Time took on a funny quality for her then; her fingers pruned from sitting in water for too long, her hair fell from the charm and her body ached despite the soothing heat around her. She knew that it was taking a longer time than she had thought but with every wave of pain and every urge to push things seemed to slow down for her. Part of her was afraid, terrified, really, of what would happen when her baby was no long an abstract being but a real, live, child in front of her. What if she had done something wrong and he was defected? What if he was sick and couldn't be cured? What if he—

"He's crowning!" Healer Bray cried. "Give me your hand!"

She didn't wait for Hermione's permission; she grabbed the younger witch's wrist and brought her hand down between her legs under the water. She pressed Hermione's fingertips gently against the soft, almost rubbery crown of her baby's head and Hermione began to cry.

"I can feel him," she whispered to no one in particular, her head lolling on Severus' shoulder. She was exhausted, like she had never been before, but her body continued to urge her to finish the job and with the next wave she gripped Severus' hands so tightly that she knew she would bruise him as she pushed down with all her might.

"Good, good," Healer Bray encouraged, her head above the water, her hands below. "His head is out!"

She dipped below the water quickly. Hermione felt the soft brush of magic against her thighs and knew that the healer was casting a Bubble Head charm on the baby so he didn't accidentally inhale any water.

"One more good push and he should be out, sweetie," her mother whispered. "You're doing brilliantly. Just a bit more, okay?"

"Fucking Christ," she gritted out, biting down on her teeth _hard_ and her body tensed. It hurt, Merlin's beard did it hurt, like nothing she had ever experienced before. The stretching, burning sensation was uncomfortable and made her want to shift around to ease it but she couldn't when her body was screaming at her to push, push, _push!_

"You're almost there," Severus' voice murmured in her ear, quiet, calm, an anchor to hold on to. "You're almost there, almost there..."

With a strangled cry, Hermione felt the moment her child slipped free from her body. It was both a relief and horrifying at the same time; the pain reduced to a throbbing ache that, in comparison, was a blessing. She was not prepared to how bereft she would feel as soon as he was free of her body and she drew in a shaky breath as tears threatened to spill down her cheeks.

Healer Bray emerged from the pink tinged water holding the smallest, scrawniest little baby Hermione had ever seen. His head, with a dark thatch of hair on top, looked a little out of shape and his skin had a strange pale tinge to it that she didn't know what to make of. His eyes were closed and his mouth opened, gasping as he took his first breath. Healer Bray quickly cancelled the Bubble Head charm and cleared his airways of any mucus from inside the womb. She had no more than finished the charm when the little baby in her hands took a deep breath and let out a bellow of protest.

"Perfect," Mrs. Granger whispered, barely heard over the cries.

Hermione and Severus stared at the infant as Healer Bray handed him over, cradling his head gently and tucking him into Hermione's arms. She felt the strange weight of him settle against her breasts as he continued to cry, his little feet coming up slightly as if he wanted to kick her in the kidney again.

"He's...tiny," Severus murmured, reaching a hand up to brush against the raised foot.

Neither of them noticed as the healer bustled around them, snipping the cord and tying it off with a charm, casting diagnostic spells at both mother and babe, and cleaning up the general mess of birth. Both of them were too busy staring dumbly at the little person they had somehow managed to create. He had a surprisingly full head of hair, that had shocked Hermione a bit, and the more he hollered the pinker his skin seemed to become.

"Is it okay that he's screaming so much?" Hermione asked, not taking her eyes off of him.

"It's good," Healer Bray nodded. "He's got a good set of lungs and he's using them. They're the last organ to develop which is why it's key that they cry when they come out so we know that they've developed properly. He's probably a mite cold, though, let's get him dry and wrapped up. I'll give you a potion to deal with the afterbirth when you're back in bed."

Magic, Hermione decided, was a fantastic thing. With a few jabs of her wand, Healer Bray cleaned and dried mother, father and baby. She weighed him, announcing that he was a healthy 6.2lbs, a bit on the small side but still good, and wrapped him up tight in a warm blanket. Hermione was placed in the same bed she had had before and then given back her baby.

It wasn't until he was settled in her arms once more that she realized she had missed him. She hadn't expected that, though she had read about it often enough, and as she cuddled him closer and studied his tiny little features she realized that she finally felt connected to this child—to her child.

"Hello, my love," she whispered. "You're beautiful."

Her eyes roved hungrily over his pale, violet tinged eyelids, his tiny little nose and pink puckered lips. He had his father's colouring, there was no denying that. His little eyebrows were thin but unmistakably black to match his tiny head of hair and suddenly she grinned, looking up at Severus.

He was standing beside her bed, his own hair still a bit wet from sitting in the pool, his eyes glued to the pair of them and the most curious expression of wonder on his face. Her smile widened at that look because she knew that he _looked_ the way she _felt_.

"He's going to have your hair," she told him, beaming.

Severus' eyes briefly met hers before they darted back down to the baby. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out.

"Oh, I don't know about that," Healer Bray said with a smile, winking at Hermione's mother in a conspiratorial manner that she didn't understand. "It's rare to see a newborn with so much hair; I think he's inherited more of _yours_ than his Da's."

Mrs. Granger chuckled as Hermione looked down at her son with a smile. "Sorry in advance," she said softly, making her mother and the Healer laugh louder.

He twitched at the sound, waking slightly from his slumber and Hermione smiled as a little frown crossed his tiny features. He was already looking like his father.

"Come here," she said, looking up at Severus. "Hold your son."

He came forward slowly, shyly almost, and reached out with unsure hands.

"Sit down on the bed, here," Hermione shifted over so that he could sit with one bent leg on the bed and the other dangling off the side. "Curl your arms together like mine and make sure you always hold his head, his neck can't support the weight yet," she watched him mimic her pose perfectly. "Yes, like that, perfect. Now here..."

Slowly, she transferred the weight of the baby from her arms to his, careful not to wake him and mindful of his head. When she pulled back, her son was nestled comfortably in the arms of his utterly terrified father. Severus looked down at the infant with a face that was an open mix of fear and avid curiosity. Hermione smiled and leaned back against the pillows, the exhaustion in her body quickly catching up to her.

"What's his name?" Healer Bray asked softly.

"Sebastian," Hermione murmured. "Sebastian Snape."


	9. Chapter 9

**Cliché **

**Sorry for my tardiness! Life is hectic!**

**If you haven't already, read "One Day Like This" by Hannah-1888. It's good stuff and here on FF.**

_**12 hours:**_

Hermione woke suddenly, her heart racing. She was unsure of what it was that had jarred her from sleep but as she took in her surroundings her memories returned and she relaxed. Sitting in a chair beside her bed, his head pillowed awkwardly on his coat, was Severus. On her other side in a small, hospital issue crib, was her son.

Her _son_.

She slowly edged to the side of the bed and looked down at him as he slept. His face had more colour in it now and even his head was more properly shaped than it had been when he emerged from the pool of water. She had mentioned the oddity to her mother who reminded her that _she_ too had looked a bit funny after being squeezed out of 'a down there', something that had made Hermione grimace and Severus snort.

Gently, she reached down and brushed her fingertips over his forehead and the downy soft hair that covered his skull. She couldn't help but smile and think that he was utterly perfect in every way. It was a biased opinion, she knew, and there'd probably be many a time during her life where she would wonder why she had had a child but in that moment he was wonderful.

His lips made gentle sucking motions as he slept and she grinned slightly. Healer Bray had shown her how to nurse him, and everything else that came with it, earlier in the day. It was an unusual sensation and not one that she was completely keen on because it did hurt a bit after a while but both her mother and Healer Bray had assured her that it would pass rather quickly. Sebastian simply had to 'perfect his technique' as the healer had put it, which had made both Severus _and_ Hermione snort.

She had actually been in the middle of nursing him for the first time when her company arrived. Harry, Ginny, Lavender and Lavender's mother had shown up to see the baby. It had been awkward, to say the least, when Harry walked into the room to see Hermione's breast mostly exposed. Severus had, in an unexpected act of chivalry, picked up his cloak from the back of his chair and draped it over Sebastian, holding it up enough so that the baby could still breathe. The stunned looks on everyone's faces had clearly made him uncomfortable but he had stood there, holding the black material over her, until Sebastian was finished and she could cover herself up.

After that, things had gone slightly downhill and Hermione frowned to remember it. Severus had seemed to withdraw from the company as they 'ooh'd and 'aww'd over the baby. Sebastian barely made a peep as he was passed from hands to hands, his unfocused eyes trying to make sense of the world around him.

"He's got Snape's eyes," Harry said softly, cradling the newborn to his chest and watching him with a look of barely disguised envy.

"And his hair," Ginny said, just as quietly, leaning over Harry's shoulder. "Actually, he's like a miniature of him," she smiled. "Are you sure this is your baby, Hermione? I don't see any of you in him."

Hermione snorted derisively from the bed. "I assure you, he's mine. I have the stretch marks to prove it. Besides, he's a boy, it's better if he looks like his father than his mother."

It was then that she had looked up at Severus and realized that he no longer stood next to the bed, but rather was staring out the windows at the far side of the room, completely ignoring the proceedings going on. She had frowned in confusion but at that moment Lavender's mother had begun to talk to her about handy charms that helped with things like cleaning spit up or creams that cleared up diaper rash faster than you could blink and Hermione forced herself to pay attention.

She rolled over and looked at the sleeping man who could not possibly be comfortable and wondered exactly what it was that had caused him to pull back so much. He had been companionable, friendly even, and willingly chatting with her mother until her friends had arrived. He had been amazing during the birth, supporting her both physically as well as mentally with soft comments of encouragement and strong hands to hold on to. What had happened?

She felt off and couldn't make heads or tails of it. Part of her was so...so _disappointed_ that he seemed to revert to his silent self, even after everyone left. It had only been the two of them in the room and yet he had barely spoken a word to her and when she had offered to let him hold Sebastian he had declined and then informed her that he would be in the canteen in the same breath. Watching his retreating back left her with an ache she didn't understand.

"I wish I understood you," she whispered softly, watching his relaxed face. "I wish I knew the real you."

She closed her eyes with a sigh and turned over fully to face him, snuggling into the soft cushions of the bed and pulling the blanket up over her shoulder. With her bone deep weariness it didn't take long for the lull of darkness and silence to pull her under. She didn't see the dark brown eyes across from her open.

**xXx**

_**2 days:**_

"So," Lavender said, plopping down on the bed next to the fully dressed Hermione. "You're coming back to my place, right?"

Hermione smiled at Lavender and shook her head. "I have to brave it at some point, Lav. Besides, I have to take apart my den and make it into a nursery somehow."

"I wouldn't worry about _that_ if I were you," Lavender crowed happily, her eyes darting over to where Severus sat, holding his sleeping son in his usual chair. Hermione followed her gaze but Severus didn't look up at the pair of them.

"Why...?" she asked, dragging out the word while she eyed her friend.

"Let's just say you had some help while you've been here," Lavender said, smiling mischievously.

"I'm going to come home to a red and gold nursery, aren't I?" Hermione asked, smiling despite herself.

"No!" Lavender laughed. "Severus wouldn't let us. He said it was better for the baby to be in a room full of soft, light colours."

"He did, did he?" she asked, her tone slightly incredulous. She turned once more to look at the man in question. He continued to ignore her in favour of watching his son instead.

"Mmhmm!" the blonde witch nodded, her curls bouncing with her excitement. "But since I figured that you would want to go home I am officially offering myself as your slave. You know, to help out when you're passed out on the couch because stinker there was up at the crack of dawn."

Hermione laughed. "You're offering to move in with me, to what? Be my husband?"

"Hey, hey," Lavender laughed, too. "I know you're hot stuff and all but you're not exactly my type."

"Please, woman," Hermione scoffed, and waved a dismissive hand. "I could rock your world."

The pair of them giggled over their silliness and it was then that Hermione caught a glance at Severus and realized that he was now staring at them—or Lavender specifically. For a second she thought he was amazed at their crude humour but it startled her to realize that he was...upset? Not angry but...sad, maybe? No, not quite. It was...just upset? She frowned, unable to read him, and it was then that he met her gaze directly.

"Well, I'll just have to content myself with fantasies," Lavender sniggered, completely unaware of Severus' gaze. "So, do you want the help?"

"I, uh," Hermione turned back to Lavender guiltily. She had completely forgotten the point of the conversation for a moment. "Perhaps in a few weeks? My mother is going to stay with me for a bit, just until I get the hang of things."

"Okay, you just let me know," Lavender said easily. Hermione felt a rush of affection for her friend and reached over to hug her, pulling the other girl forward awkwardly and making her laugh into Hermione's collar bone. "You're going to smother me!"

"I love you," she said, happily squeezing Lavender harder.

"I love you too, okay? Just let me go, you crazy bint!" Lavender laughed, flailing a little. Hermione let her go and watched the other witch straighten her hair. "You weirdo," Lavender said fondly.

"And you willingly spend your time with me, so what does that say about you?" Hermione countered.

"That I'm mental, apparently." Her tone was dry but her eyes warm. "Are you all packed and ready to go? Your mum is waiting outside for us, she said she had to go back to her place for something. I'm going to Side-Along with her to your flat. Do you want me to come back for you or...?" she trailed off and looked over at Severus who was, once again, focused on Sebastian.

"I will take her, Miss Brown," he said quietly.

"Thank you, Severus," Hermione said, slipping out of the bed and picking up her bags. "Lavender, do you mind taking this back with you? I'd rather not have too much to carry with the baby."

"Sure thing," she said, picking up both Hermione's and Sebastian's bags. "I'll see you in a bit."

She danced over to where Severus was holding Sebastian and, without so much as a blink in the older man's direction, she leaned down and kissed the infant on the forehead. "See you, little man," she said softly before turning to go.

"Are you ready to go?" Hermione asked quietly. He seemed to be in an odd mood, one that he had been in since the baby was born and she didn't quite know what to make of it. He was silent most of the time, contemplative, or just...odd. He gave people the strangest of looks at the weirdest of times and for the life of her, Hermione could not understand what was going on in his head. As if to prove her point, he watched Lavender let herself out of the room with a strangely contemplative expression on her face that Hermione didn't understand.

"Yes," he said simply, handing Sebastian back to her.

He watched as she placed him on the bed and gently wrapped a thick blanket around him. He was wearing one of the many infant onesies that she had either been gifted with or purchased herself but it would not be enough against the cool weather outside. This one was from Lavender and it read across the front "Mommy's Little Mess Maker" in glittering letters that changed colour.

Once Sebastian was wrapped up snugly, he slept through the process surprisingly, she lifted him into her arms and together they set off for the main lobby of the hospital. They had just arrived in the corridor that would lead them to the exit when Lavender came rushing up to them, closely followed by Mrs. Granger.

"What's wrong?" Hermione asked immediately.

"The press," Lavender said. "It seems that someone blabbed about you being here. They've surrounded the entrance and..." she trailed off, her eyes darting up to Severus.

"And?" he prompted, impatient. "Out with it Miss Brown."

"They know you're Sebastian's father," she said in a rush. "I don't know how, but as soon as I stepped outside to find Hermione's mum they were screaming at me to confirm it."

"How did they even know you were here with me?" Hermione asked, completely thrown. She knew that the news would break eventually but she hadn't expected to have to deal with it so soon.

"Our anonymous friend, apparently," Lavender said her tone deep and unimpressed. "They were asking for Harry, too, so I think whoever it was told the press everyone who had been there the day you gave birth."

Hermione sighed deeply, feeling a headache blossoming in her temples. "I didn't want them to be able to get a picture of Sebastian if I could avoid it," she admitted.

"And they will not," Severus said in his quiet, calm way. She looked up at him confused as he began shrugging out of his long coat with all the buttons. He swept it around her shoulders and buttoned it up around both her and the baby in her arms, leaving the neck open enough that Sebastian could breathe. It was large enough that it was barely constricting.

She beamed up to him in gratitude. "You're a genius," she said.

His lips twitched slightly at the corner. "Hardly."

"Perfect!" Mrs. Granger smiled. "Now let's get the hell out of here. "

Together the four of them walked to the exit and left the building together. Immediately, Hermione was blinded by flashes and deafened by various voices calling her name, or Severus'. She blinked against the lights and stepped closer to Severus. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, guiding her to the edge of St. Mungo's property and growling at the reporters who tried to push closer at her. The moment they were beyond the Anti-Apparition barriers he pulled her back to his chest, wrapping his arms around both her and the baby under his coat and whisked them away with a deafening _crack!_

**xXx**

_**7 days:**_

"They say we stand for nothing and there's no way we ever could...," Hermione crooned to Sebastian, cupping warm water and dribbling it over his head gently. "...so we keep waiting, waiting on the world to change..."

She heard the Floo chime behind her and called out, "I'm in the kitchen, Mom!"

"Your mother is using the Floo Network?" came a deep voice from behind her.

Hermione turned around, one hand still on Sebastian, and spotted Severus standing in her kitchen, holding a paper bag in one arm.

"Yes," she said. "Kings managed to pull a few strings for me but it's being kept pretty hush-hush, for obvious reasons."

They had quickly discovered that not even her mother could leave Hermione's flat to get supplies. The Prophet had pictures of her from the day they all left St. Mungo's and now knew exactly who to look for and bombard. As a Muggle, she was more than defenceless against them. Normally Muggle's were not permitted to use the Floo Network unless under dire circumstances but after Kingsley had caught wind of the fact that the pair of them were practically prisoner's in Hermione's flat he had made some calls.

Severus nodded and put down the paper bag on the table in the corner before joining her at the enlarged kitchen sink where she had a bright blue Muggle infant bath seat in the warm water.

"You're giving him a bath?"

Hermione ignored the temptation to tease him about asking the obvious and simply nodded. "Take your coat off, roll up your sleeves, and you can finish. He needs a good soaping."

Severus did exactly as she bid him and picked up the soft flannel that she had been using to wash him. Sebastian sat calmly, blinking up at the lights, as his father ran the wash cloth gently over his skin. Hermione didn't bother telling Severus that he didn't need to spend so much time cleaning between the little boy's toes because for the first time in _days_ Severus looked completely relaxed and happy.

She dried off her hands and began working around the two of them as she whipped together some sandwiches. She put one aside in a container for her mother, whenever she got back. She was using Lavender's Floo as her exit and so she often ended up staying out longer than intended when she ran into Mrs. Brown. The two got on like a house on fire.

Hermione plated one for Severus as he drained the water in the kitchen sink and began drying Sebastian off by hand. She had a no charm policy when it came to her son, at least not while he was so young. When he was older she would _Scourgify_ him within an inch of his life, but not while he was an infant. She put her own down at the table but remained standing as she took the first bite, her eyes wandering over the paper bag that Severus had brought with him. It was fairly full and looked like the edge had been curled over several times. Her curiosity got the better of her and while Severus had his hands full of wet baby, she opened up the bag and peered inside.

"Severus?" she called softly, not wanting to startle him as he used a charm to wrap the towel around Sebastian. "What's this?" she poked a hand in and pulled out what looked like a handmade blanket. The fabric was soft with age and many washings and the colour faded from what was once a dark blue to a light shade that reminded her of what the sky looked like right before a summer storm.

He turned around with Sebastian in his arms, cradling a tiny head in his large palm, and froze.

"Well, they're...I just thought that—" he hesitated, unable to hold her eyes. He swiftly walked over to the table where one half of it was covered in Sebastian's baby stuff. Hermione had brought everything with her to the kitchen so that she could dress him in the warm room. Severus laid him down gently on his changing blanket, charmed to be extremely cushiony, and began putting a diaper on him. It was a skill that Severus had mastered quite quickly, much to the irritation of Harry who still could not figure out how the damn things worked.

"Is this your baby blanket?" Hermione asked softly, watching as Severus's long fingers deftly pinned the corners of Sebastian's cloth diaper together snugly.

"I know that you have plenty of blankets and toys for him," he said quietly, still not looking at her, "but I had them in my house and I thought perhaps you might have a use for them."

Hermione wondered at the sudden change the items had brought out in him, especially considering that he had given them to her willingly, but decided not to ask him. She shook out the blanket and caught a whiff of detergent as she did so; he had clearly prepared these items to bring to her, so why did he seem so...nervous?

Yes, that was it. She watched him slip Sebastian into another onesie and realized that it was nervousness that danced across his face. Did he think she would reject these pieces of his childhood? Why?

"Lift him up when you're done?" she asked, watching him finish the last button and slip his hands under the small body. When he was held securely in Severus' hands she walked up to the pair of them and wrapped the baby blanket around Sebastian before gently taking him from his father and cradling him against her shoulder.

"Thank you," she said softly. Leaning up on her toes she grabbed his chin in her hand and placed a firm but chaste kiss against his lips.

She couldn't say what it was that prompted her to do it, his cheek would have sufficed, but she knew she had made the right decision when he looked completely flummoxed and a pleasurable warmth unfurled in her belly.

"You're welcome," he said softly.

"Eat your sandwich and you can show me what else you brought for us," she aimed a wandless spell at her plate, making it float behind her while she meandered into the sitting room as if it were perfectly common place to kiss Severus Snape in her kitchen and leave the man staring after her, his mouth slightly open.


	10. Chapter 10

**Cliché **

**Listen up again, folks! News time:**

**Unfortunately, I am once again being trolled (I swear, when it rains, it pours) but this time it's by some witless girl. If this gets pulled it can be found at Granger Enchanted. I apologise for the drama. I really, really do. **

_**So**_** many wankers,**_** so**_** little time. **

_**3 weeks:**_

The room still smelled faintly of 'new', that weird combination of fresh wood, plastics and the lightest traces of paint. They had been thorough, she had to admit, the renewing Air Cleansing charms were a nice touch especially since they kept the scent from overwhelming Sebastian. He slept in her room for the time being, it was just easier since she was feeding him every couple of hours, but soon she would move him into the room that his family had helped make for him and it was nice that there was literally nothing she could do to improve upon it.

Lavender hadn't been kidding when she had told Hermione that she needn't worry about the nursery. She smiled at the blonde witch who was perched somewhat comically on an old, beat up rocking horse that Hermione had grown up with. Her mother had enlisted the help of Lavender's mother to get several of Hermione's childhood things over to the flat, the horse being one of them.

"So I take it you like the nursery, then?" Lavender asked, rocking back and forth, her bare feet held up off the ground. "I never got around to asking when you first came home."

"I love it," Hermione said, rocking slowly with Sebastian in her arms. She was surprised by how easy it was for her to breastfeed in front of people. She didn't want to go out into the park and whip it out but it didn't bother her that people like Lavender and Harry had seen her nursing her son. She was too focused on him, anyway, to really bother with anyone else. It was a soothing experience, intimate in a way that was not even remotely sexual. Awe inspiring was as close as she'd come to describing the feeling. It was one thing to know that her body had created and sustained this little person; it was another entirely to hold him in her arms, protect him, care for him, and _nourish_ him.

"Even the colour?" Lavender grinned at her, curls swaying with the motion of the horse.

"Especially the colour," Hermione agreed with a laugh, looking around at the pale green walls of the nursery. Lavender had taken great joy in telling Hermione about how Harry and Severus had argued over the colours of the walls. Harry had initially spelled them a rich crimson but Severus had axed that as too harsh of a colour for a baby's room. After that it had become a war of who could cast the fastest spell to charm the walls a specific colour. By the end of it, Lavender had simply walked out, purchased some speciality paint in 'sea foam green' and came back with it to find them _still_ arguing. Harry had only admitted defeat at the sight of the can in Lavender's hands and let Severus charm it on to the walls. Hermione's only regret was that she hadn't been there to watch Severus and Harry go head to head over the colour of her baby's _bedroom_ _walls_.

The delight about all things magical was that not only did the paint not have to be rolled on the Muggle way but every once in a while the walls would seem to ripple and a wave of colour would crash against a corner or an opposing wall, foaming and swirling like the sea.

"What's that feel like?" Lavender asked, nodding her head at Sebastian where he was latched on to a breast.

"It was a bit painful at first," Hermione shrugged. "That faded quickly, thankfully. The sucking sensation is a bit odd but you get used to it. I've got a cream from Healer Bray to put on my nipples after he feeds that will stop them from getting raw and chapped when he starts teething but I don't have to worry about that for a while."

"When will _that _joy happen?"

"It could start as soon as three months," Hermione shrugged, "but everyone is different. My mother said that my teeth didn't come in until six months so he might be a late bloomer, too."

"What about Prof—uh, Severus?" Lavender said, blushing. She was trying not to call him Professor, at his own insistence, but she forgot regularly.

"I don't know," Hermione admitted. "I haven't asked, but he hasn't offered either."

"He brought you stuff that was his as a baby, though, right?"

"He did," she nodded. "It was very sweet of him and Sebastian seems to be intrigued by the teddy though that could be because it blinks and waves at him."

"He seems pretty into this whole being a father thing," Lavender observed quietly, slowing down on the rocking horse. "Are you guys...seeing each other?"

Hermione sighed and switched Sebastian to her other breast to balance them out. "I don't know what we are, to be honest. I don't even know what I want. Should I be dating him, really, Lavender?"

"Why not? You're obviously attracted to each other...at least I hope you are, you kind of have a kid together," Lavender said, eyeing her.

"We are—I mean, I am," Hermione bit her lip. "It's weird, you know? I wasn't at all attracted to him when we were in school, I didn't even _like_ him much beyond the fact that he's brilliant. But..." she trailed off.

"But what? How on earth did you guys end up together long enough to make _him_?" she gestured to Sebastian. "You've never told me about that night."

"I don't remember much of it," Hermione admitted. "Something that I'm ashamed of, if I'm honest with myself. I don't usually get _that_ drunk and I certainly don't have casual flings but...I don't know Lavender. We found each other in the bar, we started talking and the more we talked, the more I found myself fascinated with his mouth, the more I wanted to kiss him. It sounds cheesy and...and stupid but," she sighed and gave up trying to explain herself as Sebastian finished, watching her with familiar dark brown eyes while he gummed at her flesh. His hair was growing in more and she could see the occasional curl, making her wonder if Healer Bray had been right about him having her hair.

Straightening her clothing, she threw a cloth over her shoulder and picked up Sebastian to burp him as she continued the thought that had been chasing around her head.

"Part of me thinks that that night was just a drunken shag. I was lonely, pissed beyond belief, and he was there. I don't even know where I got the courage from to ask him home, it had to have been the booze," Hermione said, gently patting her son's back as she paced. "And while I don't regret having Sebastian, does that mean I should automatically start seeing his father? Does having a child necessitate having a relationship with the man? Maybe it does in the Wizarding world but it certainly doesn't in the Muggle one and...I can't help but feeling that that's a bad reason to start a relationship."

"Well, didn't you say that you guys were working on being friends, first?" Lavender asked, watching her friend. "Why not see if something comes out of that instead of worrying about it now?"

"I should take your advice," Hermione said, murmuring to Sebastian as she rubbed. "I know I should, but I can't seem to. I want a relationship with him, I do, and I don't know _why_ and that terrifies me. What if this is just some misplaced emotion on my part? What if I'm just trying to...to...I don't know, conform?"

Lavender laughed loudly. "You? Conform to what the Wizarding world wants? You of the S.P.E.W and the misjudged werewolves and the defying Pureblood doctrine that has been passed down for a millennia? You?"

Hermione grinned wryly and rolled her eyes at her friend. "When you put it that way I sound like a rebel without a cause."

"Just roll with it, Hermione," Lavender laughed. "Stop over thinking it."

"I can't help it," she admitted. "That's who I am, remember? Besides, I feel like...like there's so much to say, so much to talk about, and we're just avoiding it. And I _want_ to avoid it, I want to pretend that we're...I don't know. We're not normal are we?"

Lavender snorted just as Sebastian spit up against his mother's shoulder, the milky concoction landing on the towel. It had taken her several tries to get that right without some of it ending up on her sleeve or in her hair. There were still days where she discovered some, hours later of course, and had to deal with the fact that everyone she'd come into contact with had probably seen the white stain on her clothes.

"That's my little man," she crooned. "Feel better?" she lay him down on his changing table and wiped up his mouth. With a flick of her wand she threw the towel into the hamper.

"That's disgusting," Lavender said, walking up beside her and wrinkling her nose in the direction of the soiled cloth Hermione had used to wipe his face.

"That's having a baby," she retorted. "Aren't you glad we don't live with you anymore?"

"Are you kidding? I've gone back to take-away for dinner," Lavender said, picking up Sebastian and cradling him against her shoulder. "Now Auntie Lav can hold you because you're done barfing all over Mommy, aren't you?"

"Don't get too ahead of yourself," Hermione said wryly. "You can never predict when he might spew out of one end or the other."

"God, you're the best birth control a witch could ask for, aren't you?" Lavender asked the small boy in her arms, her voice soft and teasing. "I think watching your Ma change your nappie for the first time cured me of any desire to ever have sex again."

Hermione snorted. "You say that now."

Lavender grinned at her wickedly over the small dark head of her son but before Hermione could say anything else they both heard a voice call out from down the hall.

"Hello?"

"In here!" the two witches called in unison. Lavender made what she called 'spooky fingers' with one hand and Hermione rolled her eyes.

"I swear 'Mione," Harry's footsteps echoed his grumbling as he made his way down the hall of her flat and into the nursery. "Are you mad? You're flat isn't even warded."

"Just because _you_ don't feel the wards, Harry, doesn't mean they're not there," Hermione arched an eyebrow at him. "How many years have you known me, anyway? When have I _ever_ left anything to chance?"

Harry grinned and shrugged. "Point, I suppose. Still, you can't blame me, I usually feel them."

"When did you get so cocky?" Lavender asked, rocking Sebastian in her arms as he drooled on her shoulder.

"When I saved the world," Harry cracked, grinning at the blonde. It was a sign of how far _he_ had come that he could make a joke about the most trying times of their lives. "Now, do I get to hold my nephew or what?"

Harry's grin turned stupid and sappy as Lavender rolled her eyes and handed the tiny bundle over. Sebastian flailed his arms a little, he was getting used to moving them more and more, until he was settled in Harry's arms. Cradled in the curve of the strong, sinewy muscle, her son watched Harry with interested as he talked softly.

"And how are you today? Did you spit up on Lavender?" he asked. "I bet you did, didn't you? You're a good kid, that's why."

Hermione laughed as Lavender squawked indignantly and draped Severus' old blanket over Harry's shoulder. "Take him to the sitting room and I'll meet you there with some lunch. C'mon Lav, we should let them do their male bonding or Harry will whinge."

Lavender scoffed but followed Hermione to the kitchen and handed the other witch condiments as they were requested. Lavender was horrible in the kitchen and Hermione now understood why her mother said that the poor girl could burn water when Hermione had first moved in with her.

When they finally reached the living room it was to find Harry sitting cross legged on the floor with Sebastian balanced on his legs and a finger held in each tiny fist as the infant studied the older man who was singing him a Muggle nursery rhyme.

"Oh, Merlin," Lavender groaned dramatically, though there was a smile on her face. "He's singing. Poor kid."

"I'd give you the V Lav," Harry said, his smile widening for Sebastian, "but my hands are otherwise occupied."

"I'm surprised he's not asleep yet," Lavender said, setting his plate down on the floor beside him.

"I think he will be shortly," Harry said, casting a quick cushioning charm on the floor and placing Sebastian's blanket on the carpet in front of him before gently laying the baby down on his back. "Oh, Snape stopped by while you were in the kitchen. He said he'd come by later."

"He did?" Hermione frowned. "I didn't hear the Floo. I wonder why he didn't just stay?"

"He seemed irritated," Harry shrugged, picking up his sandwich. "Then again, he's always irritated."

"He's not," Hermione defended. "He just finds _you_ irritating."

"The feeling is mutual," Harry mumbled around a mouthful of food.

**xXx**

**xXx**

_**1 month, 3 weeks:**_

Hermione found herself bored one Thursday afternoon and decided, on a whim, to visit Severus at his shop in Diagon Alley. He had not stopped by during the lunch hour since the time Harry and Lavender had been over, only after his shop closed, so she was a bit worried that he might be busy. If he was, she would simply do some shopping and either come back later or go home. She figured that it could do no harm since the world already seemed to know that he was the father of her baby; the sheer number of Howlers that she had received before she warded her flat against any mail not delivered by Morgana proved just that. She had been furious with herself when she had had to dive on top of Sebastian and cover his ears with her hands to stop him from going deaf from the shrieks. She had wanted to find out who the sender was and give them a Howler right back for putting her child in danger but she realized that they probably wouldn't care.

The public was torn on their opinion of her as yet unseen baby; half of them thought that the poor child should be taken from her and Severus and given to responsible people to raise properly; the other half seemed to think he was somehow to blame for the circumstances of his birth, as if he had inherited some darkness from his father. Hermione had simply stopped reading the paper, she couldn't take it.

Packing them some lunch—left over lasagne from the other night that Severus had particularly enjoyed after she had convinced him to stay for the meal—she enlarged one of her cloaks so that it would cover both her and Sebastian before she Disillusioned herself and snuck out of the flat. Sebastian still wasn't old enough for Floo travel, it was too disorienting for infants and they had a tendency to inhale the hot ash, so she had to be stealthy in her adventures.

She managed to Apparate away from her apartment building the moment she stepped outside of it and the few reporters who still hung around, even after they had slowly realized they were not going to get a story, didn't realize she had even come out until they heard the crack of her disappearance.

She landed in the courtyard of the Leaky Cauldron. She wasn't going to remove her Disillusionment spell until she tapped on the bricks with her wand and saw just how busy Diagon Alley was. It wouldn't do to be knocked into, especially when she was carrying Sebastian. Instead, she pulled up the now extremely large hood of her cloak and let it cover most of her distinguishable features.

Having never been to Severus' store before, it took her a while to find it, but when she did she couldn't stop the grin that spread over her face. _Moste Potente Potions_ was spelled out in the same slanting writing of Severus' own hand in silver letters across the top of the shop. She knew it was done on purpose; the tome that held the same title was the book that she had learned how to produce a Polyjuice potion from. It was full of extremely difficult and controversial—though not necessarily Dark—potions. It was perfect for Severus' store.

When she pushed open the door, a soft chime rang over her head and she stepped into the cool, dimly lit interior of a shop lined with potions and supplies.

"May I help you with something?" came a cool voice from behind her, making her heart jump and her breath hitch.

"Yes, I'm looking for a tall, snarky Potions Master. I've heard one can be found here," she said, turning around and pulling down her hood with a grin.

Shock and confusion raced across his eyes before he quickly composed himself. His eyes wandered downwards almost instantly, seeking out the bundle under her cloak. She swept the material aside to reveal Sebastian in a sling, his dark brown eyes looking around at the world.

"Why are you here?" Severus asked softly, reaching out to take her small burden. She released her son into his father's arms and held up the small basket she had with her.

"I come bearing lunch. I hope you haven't eaten," she smiled at him.

Had he not been holding his son he might have been able to point his wand behind his back and Vanish the remnants of a sandwich but, as it turned out, he had not yet mastered spell casting with infant in arms yet. She easily followed the movement of his arm and caught a glimpse of brown paper before it all disappeared.

"No, I haven't eaten," he lied smoothly, turning back to her. "What have you brought?"

She laughed, throwing her head back as the sound bounced around them. "You need to work on your subterfuge."

He arched an eyebrow at her.

"What?" she asked, still smiling broadly. "It's true. You've gotten rusty."

"What have you brought?" he asked, pointedly ignoring her comments. "Lasagne?" She thought she might have caught an undertone of hope in the one word.

He spent almost every evening at her flat, even when her mother was still staying with her, but he had rarely accepted the offer of food. He seemed to time his arrival carefully so that it would be after she had eaten but before Sebastian had been put to bed. He often stayed long after the baby had been put down and, though she would never admit it to him, his visits were fast becoming her favourite part of the day. They spent much of the time talking about Sebastian or his work and though they never got into anything to personal, or about the future, it was still...something. They had a pattern, a routine, an almost comradery.

"How'd you know?" she asked, placing the basket on the now cleared counter and pulling out the containers.

"You came looking for a Potions Master, did you not?" he asked, tapping the side of his large nose with a raised eyebrow. Hermione paused for a second, unsure if he was implying what she thought he was. His eyebrows rose at her silence and she finally smiled.

"So I did."

Severus was..._teasing her._

She turned away from him, unwilling to let him see how wide her smile had grown as she emptied the basket. She pulled out the now familiar blue blanket and a wooden baby spoon that had the initials "SS" carved into the handle. It was charmed to never wear or splinter so it was as good as it was when it had been used forty years prior. Hermione had taken to using the items Severus had brought them—a couple of outfits, a few more blankets, a well loved magical teddy and the spoon—as much as she could. She loved the look that Severus tried to hide whenever he saw his son in a shirt that had been worn by him when he was a babe or staring curiously at a teddy that he remembered sleeping with.

With a quick wave of her wand, Hermione transfigured the basket into a wicker approximation of a Muggle car seat for Sebastian to sit in while they ate. Severus placed the baby inside and then pulled up an extra stool for her. Together they unpacked the food, lifted the Stasis charms she had placed on them and proceeded to dig in. Sebastian could not yet eat solid foods but he enjoyed the flavour of some of them and so Hermione experimented with him to find out what he liked best.

"What do we have for him today?" Severus asked after swallowing a mouthful.

"Peas and carrots, mangos, and apricots," Hermione said, opening the first of the very small jars. She ended up eating all of the baby food that she opened but she didn't really mind because she enjoyed the faces her son made as he was introduced to each new flavour.

"I'd place money on mango," Severus said, a small smile on his face as he watched his son. They sometimes bet on which new flavour he'd enjoy the most and Severus had been experiencing a winning streak.

"You're probably right," she said dipping the spoon into peas and carrots so that there was a little on the end.

"Ready, sweetheart?" she placed the spoon against his lips, rubbing it a bit so that he would open up and taste. He tried to suck on the spoon every time but it was enough to get the flavour in his mouth. He closed his lips around the spoon and tongued it with a thoughtful expression on his face.

"He doesn't seem to mind it," Hermione said, surprised.

"Try the mango."

"Okay, okay," she said, grabbing her own fork and popping a bite into her mouth as she cleaned off the spoon and dipped it into the mango.

"Next one," she said softly, repeating the process. Sebastian opened his mouth and sucked on the spoon for a second before his face screwed up and he let out a startled cry.

"Oh!" Hermione laughed, turning to Severus. "He doesn't like your mangos! I should have placed money on it!"

"What's wrong with you, child?" he asked his son, his voice slightly incredulous. "There's no accounting for taste, apparently," he mumbled, grabbing the jar of mango baby food and proceeding to eat it.

Hermione was still laughing when the shop door opened quickly, making the bells above it chime rather violently. She looked up over the basket-cum-seat and spotted the last person she ever would have wanted to see in that moment.

"So it's true," Ron breathed, his eyes riveted on Hermione's face.

He stood there in the entryway to the shop, several feet away from the counter, but the room suddenly felt incredibly small. His chest was rising and falling rather rapidly, as if he had run a marathon to get there. The look on his face, however, was what made her reach out for her son. He looked livid.

"Severus," she didn't take her eyes off of Ron. "Please take Sebastian to your office. Ron and I need to talk."

Severus, thankfully, didn't argue. He merely reached out and plucked the entire ensemble that held his son and walked through the door just off to the left behind her. It wasn't that she believed Ron would purposely hurt her baby, but she didn't trust him not to lose sight of the fact that there was an infant in the room and start throwing around hexes. There was less chances of that happening if both Severus and Sebastian were out of sight.

"Ron, what are you doing here?" she asked quietly, stepping around the counter.

"Jenkins saw you coming in here," he said and his voice was curiously void of emotion. "He told me. I came to see if it was true."

"Whatever it is you wanted to know, you could have just asked me," she said, still talking softly as if she were wary of startling him.

"The kid," he nodded his head towards the office behind her. "Is it really Snape's?"

"Yes," she said, swallowing at the look that crossed his face. "It wasn't planned but...yes, Sebastian is Severus' son."

"_Severus_," Ron spat, his face taking on a sudden and nasty expression. "You'll have _his_ kids, eh? But not mine? What's the fucking deal, Hermione?"

"Ron," she tried, taking a step forward. "It's not like that—"

"THEN HOW IS IT?" he roared suddenly, his face turning an unpleasant shade of red. "Explain it to me, Hermione, because I'm fucking dying to know! Wasn't that the deal breaker for you? Huh? Kids? I wanted them and you didn't, and now you have one with _him!_"

"No, Ron. You wanted a hoard of kids and I didn't but that's only part of what broke us up," Hermione said, sighing heavily.

"How could you?" he continued as if he hadn't heard her, and maybe he hadn't. "You slept with _Snape_? That fucking ugly bastard? Merlin's balls, 'Mione! How can you stand yourself?"

"How _dare_ you Ronald!" she hissed, taking a step toward him in her anger. "You have _no right_ to talk about him like that!"

"Frankly, Hermione, I don't give a shit!" he spat. "Are you afraid poor Snape is going to hear us? That I might hurt his feelings?" He looked over her shoulder and pitched his voice to carry. "Hey Snape! You greasy old man! How's it feel to be fucking a witch young enough to be your daughter? You sick fuck!"

"RONALD!" Hermione yelled, praying that Severus had cast a Silencing Charm but not really believing it. "Who I sleep with is none of your business! It hasn't been since the day we broke up!"

"You're right," he spat. "It's not. I just feel sorry for the kid, you know? A dirty old Death Eater for a father and a _whore_ for a mother."

Hermione reared back. He would have been better of slapping her; she was stunned that Ron would say something like that to her. She didn't notice Severus advancing on them with his wand drawn until he had placed himself between the two of them with the ebony tip pointed directly at Ron's heart.

"Remove yourself from my premises, Mr. Weasley," he said, his voice deadly cool, "or I will be forced to remove you myself."

"You're going to attack the Chief of Defence, Snape?" Ron sneered at him. "I have the perfect cell for you, now that I think of it. I can have you in there faster than you can blink."

She felt something heavy settle in her chest at his words. Ron had always had so much pride in being the youngest Chief, the head of The Department of Security and Defence, otherwise known as the Guards of Azkaban, that she was shocked he would sully it by threatening to pull rank and put Severus in jail for something he didn't do.

"Do you honestly think anyone will believe that you are the injured party here? You've hardly kept quiet about how you feel about Hermione's pregnancy and our relationship, not to mention your famous temper. If anything Weasley, you'll be the one gracing that cell with your, no doubt, illustrious presence," Severus' lip curled in distaste. "I'm going to suggest that you leave once more before I _make_ you."

Ron snorted. "No one is going to believe you, Snape, and _her_ reputation is about as dirty and ruined as she is these days so—"

Ron's words cut off with a bang as he was hit in the chest by a wordless spell from Severus. He fell backwards, landing on the carpeted floor with a hard thump. He didn't have a chance to catch his breath, however, as Snape flicked his wand at the younger wizard and threw him bodily out the door and into the street beyond. With another vicious flick, the door slammed shut, warded itself and the 'Open' sign turned over to reveal 'Closed'.

Hermione stood there and felt the sudden silence closing in on her. She blinked at the spot where Ron had been and, before she knew it, the tears that had been threatening spilled over her cheeks. Without thinking about it, she turned to Severus and pressed her face against his chest, her hands grasping fistfuls of the back of his robes. She felt him tense briefly before his arm came up around her shoulders to pat her back awkwardly as she hiccupped wetly. She would have laughed at his apparent inability to offer comfort but she was so miserable that she couldn't find the humour in it at the moment.

"I'm sorry he said those things to you," he eventually said, his voice soft again.

"I know that people are saying those kinds of things," she said, turning her face so that she could press her cheek against him. "I've heard some of it. It bothers me a bit, yeah, even though I expected it but Ron...," she trailed off, sniffing. "I knew he'd be angry, I just didn't think he'd be cruel."

"He feels that you betrayed him," Severus' hand slowly worked its way into her hair, smoothing her riotous curls. "You gave another man what he wanted more than anything."

"A child?" she snorted. "He can have a baby with anyone."

"A family," he whispered.

"Are you family, Severus?" she asked, not able to look up at him.

"I don't know," he replied, his hand stilling. "Do you want me to be?"

"Yes," she answered instantly. "I want you to be a father to my baby. I want you—," she stopped abruptly, unsure if she should continue. She had barely thought about it and she was afraid that she was doing it for all the wrong reasons.

"You want me to what?" he prompted.

She shook her head, hesitating against the words that pushed at her teeth until they spilled out in a rush. "I don't know. I just want you."

She felt the hitch in his breath, the way his entire body became rigid and she held her breath as she listened to the sound of his heart pick up. He didn't say a word, he didn't move, but he didn't push her away, either.

"Severus?" she whispered.

"I—"

At that moment, Sebastian began to cry from the other room. Hermione broke away from him, feeling slightly guilty for forgetting about her own child even if it was only momentarily. Wiping her eyes with her palms, she sniffed once and offered him a small smile. "That's a hungry cry. I better go feed him."

She had just rounded the counter, heading for the office door behind it, when she heard Severus turn.

"Hermione?"

"Hmm?" she faced him, trying to keep her expression neutral. He looked...thoughtful.

"Yes."

A small smile broke out over her face and she felt her heart clench in her chest as his lips twitched.

"Yes," she echoed.


	11. Chapter 11

**Cliché **

**Thanks for all the support guys! I haven't heard anything from the site admin so here's to hoping! No news is good news, eh?**

**Apologies for the shortness of this chapter, the next section is huuuuge and I haven't the energy to do editing it any justice. I shall endeavour to have that up before the week is out. Sound good?**

**I'm going to go pass out, fully clothed, face down on my bed now. I hope the cat doesn't take this as an invitation to sleep on my ass. **

_**2 months, 1 week:**_

Hermione found herself sitting in front of the telly staring at the screen and wondering if she should owl Kingsley for a little piece work when the knock at her front door startled her. She turned and stared at it from over the back of her couch as if simply frowning at the wood would render it invisible and allow her to see who stood on the other side. When the knock came again she reluctantly stood up and, with a glance at Sebastian sleeping on his blanket next to her on the couch, warded the area so he couldn't fall off before she went to get the door. She was being paranoid, of course, because he couldn't even roll over onto his tummy yet, but she was taking no chances.

When she got to the door, she opened it a crack and at the first flash of red hair she thought to slam it closed—Ginny was the only Weasley who visited her and she always came through the Floo—until the head turned around and revealed Molly Weasley's warm, concerned brown eyes.

Part of her felt pathetic for hoping that it was Severus; she hadn't seen as much of him as she wanted to since he had kept to his weird routine of coming by after his shop closed. He only deviated in the fact that he no longer fought her on dinner and made sure to arrive a little earlier so that she wasn't waiting on him. Other than that he had been curiously distant with her and she often wondered if it was because he regretted saying 'yes' to her that day in his shop. Was it just because she had been emotional over Ron's cruel words? Or had _he_ been emotional over them? She could never tell with him. She wanted to ask him but the same part of her that hoped it was him at the door even though he always Floo'd in felt that her pride could only take so much. When had she turned into such a coward?

Forcibly pushing the thoughts out of her mind, she opened the door wider and needlessly asked, "Molly?"

"I—Hello, dear," Molly said softly and Hermione was surprised by how swiftly the lump formed in the back of her throat.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, her voice a bit hoarse.

"I wanted to see how you were doing with the—the baby," Molly looked down at the handbag she clutched in front of her. "And I wanted to apologise for Ronald's behaviour towards you and S-Severus. I only just found out about what he did."

Hermione's heart clenched painfully in her chest but she didn't step back and invite the other woman in to her home. "It is not your place to apologise for Ron's actions, only he can do that," she said shakily. "The only apology I want from you is not one I'm sure you're willing to give."

Molly looked up at her, her eyes swimming in unshed tears but she didn't say anything.

"I needed you," Hermione said softly.

"I know," Molly said, her voice choked as the tears fell from her eyes. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I don't—I can't justify—Hermione, I..."

She trailed off and Hermione felt herself relent a little. She stepped back. "Let's not have this discussion on the front step."

The older witch nodded and walked into the flat, hovering by the door as Hermione closed it. She only moved when Hermione did, following her down the hall and into the sitting room where the fireplace was cold and the telly still on. Hermione lifted the wards stopping anything from physically passing through them that were around her son and lifted his sleeping form gently off the couch. She felt the need to hold him while she had this conversation.

Hermione sat down with him, tucking his father's blanket loosely around them, and gestured with her head for Molly to take a seat at the other end of the couch. She sat stiffly, her coat still on and her purse in her lap as she stared at the little baby in Hermione's lap.

"I never thought I'd see you as a mother," she whispered. She seemed to realize that what she had said was odd and shook her head slightly, meeting Hermione's gaze. "Not that I didn't think you'd ever be a mother, I just never really _thought_ about it. I never pictured it. You...it suits you."

Hermione smiled slightly and looked down at her sleeping son.

"I would ask if the rumours are true about you and Severus but...I can see that they are," Molly said softly and when Hermione looked up, her eyes were back on Sebastian. "He even looks like him a bit, not that you can really tell this early on."

"Some of the rumours are true," Hermione said softly. "While I haven't heard most of them, I'd be willing to bet my Gringotts vault that the majority of them are wildly off the mark."

Molly nodded and they were both quiet for a long time, neither of them willing to break the silence. Hermione's head hummed things she wanted to say and ask but wasn't sure if she could; did she want the answers to the questions? She hadn't been able to do this with Severus, every time she thought she might her tongue failed her, but could she do it with Molly?

Swallowing hard, she forced herself to look up and ask the biggest, and hardest, question.

"Why?"

The silence was heavy and Hermione could see Molly physically swallow as if to prepare herself.

"I was angry with you, for putting yourself in this situation," she admitted quietly. "I was ashamed for you, and of myself. I know that it's no excuse but...I didn't know how to handle it and so I just...ignored it."

"But you didn't," Hermione insisted, trying to keep her voice calm. "You came here and you told me to marry the father of my baby, to fall in line with what was expected from me by complete strangers! I needed you in my corner, Molly!"

Sebastian stirred slightly at the sound of his mother's raised voice and she bit her tongue hard to stop herself from letting loose the torrent of painful words that wanted to spew forth.

"You were the closest thing I had to a mother in this world, a world that my real mother doesn't truly understand, and I need you to be there for me; instead you sided with _them_," she finished with a quiet intensity.

"And I don't completely disagree with them," Molly said softly, looking at Hermione sadly. "I know that it's...archaic. I know that the Muggle world is different and...and I support you, I do. I just...I was raised to believe certain things, Hermione, just the way you were and one of those is that a man should marry a woman if he gets her in the family way."

"And I can respect that that's your belief," Hermione said. There was no mistaking the bitterness in her voice despite her words. "I don't ostracise you because your belief is different from mine, I don't pressure you into accepting my belief, I still love you for who you are."

Molly's head snapped up and her eyes widened at Hermione's last words. "Do you think that I stopped _loving_ you?" she gasped. "Hermione, I have loved you since you were a little girl."

"Actions speak louder than words," Hermione bit out, forcing her hands not to curl harshly around Sebastian's soft skin.

"They do," Molly agreed. "Why do you think I'm here?"

Before she could answer, the Floo activated in the cold grate, the fire springing up from nothing as both witches turned to look at the tall man who stepped through. Hermione's eyes darted up to the Muggle clock hanging on her wall and was shocked to find that it was Severus' usual time to arrive. She had lost track of time while watching the telly and even more so when Molly showed up.

"Oh," Molly gasped, her eyes growing impossibly wide before they darted to Hermione. "I didn't realize I would be interrupting."

"Molly," Hermione said tiredly, rubbing a hand over her face. "Whatever you're imagining, it's probably wrong." She could only just imagine what the older witch thought about Severus Flooing into her flat as if he owned the place; she was probably under the impression that they were living together, or at least having sex, and while neither of those were true she had to admit that she wasn't terribly opposed to the former and all for the latter.

"I recognize that," the older witch said, somewhat defensively. "Still, I should leave you two be."

Hermione made to get up and let her out but Molly waved her back down. "Sit, you don't want to wake him if you can avoid it. I doubt he's sleeping for very long periods yet, is he?"

"No," Hermione shook her head, sitting back down while Severus watched the two women silently. "I'm up about two or three times a night."

"I have a book that might help you with getting him back to sleep," Molly said. "It's quite old now, but I could send it to you if you would like?"

Hermione could see an olive branch being offered and she wavered. Her eyes darted to Severus, who was watching her quietly. She knew that _he_ knew about the fact that the only Weasley speaking to her was Ginny, it was a hard fact to miss, and she wondered what he thought about it. She didn't know because she had never asked but watching him made her think of how much she had asked of him when she pled for his forgiveness—if he could try to get over that, surely she could get over this?

"That would be great," Hermione said, meeting Molly's eyes. "Thank you. Perhaps you could come over sometime this week? I've been wanting to ask someone about childproofing wards. Muggles have their own way but something tells me that a plastic gate is not going to stop Sebastian for long."

Molly smiled and Hermione could see a little bit of relief in it. "Of course, I'll owl you later to set it up," she said, turning to head back down the hall. She paused before she got there and looked back at Hermione and her son. "Sebastian is a beautiful name. How did you choose it?"

Hermione smiled and looked down at her lap. "I wanted a name that starts with an S," she admitted, peaking up at Severus whose eyes rested on his son, "and Sebastian was my favourite option." He looked completely flummoxed for a heartbeat when he met her eyes but the look was gone within seconds, replaced by his usual mask of indifference.

Molly smiled and nodded before she murmured a quiet goodbye and let herself out the front door. Hermione felt the wards shift as she passed over the threshold and knew that the older witch was gone.

"I'm afraid I let time get away from me, I have nothing planned for dinner," she admitted, slowly standing so as not to wake her son. "If you want to sit with him for a bit, I can whip something together for us."

"I can go back out and pick something up for you," he offered quietly, not quite meeting her eyes. She frowned and wondered at his strange behaviour—but then she had been doing nothing but that since Sebastian had been born. She was no closer to understanding the man than she had been two months prior.

"Mmm," she murmured, walking over to him and placing Sebastian in arms that were already forming a cradle. "As much as I'd probably kill for some curry right now, I'm not allowed to have it. Just sit down and relax, I won't take long."

Gently, she pulled her hands away, leaving Sebastian in his father's arms; she had to smile at how small her looked lying there. She glanced up at Severus and found him staring at her instead of the baby, which shocked her, because he usually only had eyes for his son when he first arrived. She smiled tentatively at him and, with how close they were, she couldn't resist leaning up on her toes and pressing a chaste kiss to his lips. When she pulled back his eyes were wide and she briefly wondered why he was so shocked that she would kiss him when she had openly told him that she _wanted_ him. What did he think she had meant?

Grinning, she shook her head slightly and headed for the kitchen. She quickly whipped up an Alfredo sauce, boiled some pasta and threw in fresh broccoli so that she could feel less guilty about what a poorly balanced meal it was. She plated enough for both her and Severus and made her way into the sitting room only to find that the man in question had fallen asleep on the couch, Sebastian tucked into his side against the cushy armrest.

She grinned and sat down next to him, placing his food under a Stasis spell to keep it hot and fresh as she dug into her own. She couldn't help but feel that this was exactly how her evenings should end.


	12. Chapter 12

**Cliché **

**Okay, clarification time:**

**ONE: Hermione is not feeding the baby solid food. She's letting him taste miniscule amounts, not enough to really swallow. This was done with my niece when she was an infant and she was fine.**

**THAT BEING SAID, I don't think I need to tell you this but I will anyway; Do not parent your children based on anything I, or anyone else, has ever written in fanfiction. Frankly, if you think parenting by some anonymous, and probably unqualified, source from the internet is a swell idea I think you should be neutered. **

**(Thanks to the ladies who insisted on putting up a warning. I never would have thought of it).**

**TWO: Remember that dream Hermione had of her and Severus? Remember how I alluded to it being half reality, half fantasy? Yeah. Keep that in mind.**

**THREE: NSFW. Holla. **

_**3 months:**_

Hindsight, Hermione decided, was definitely 20/20.

"When's Snape coming over?" Harry asked, scooping Sebastian out of Ginny's arms and making him gurgle happily. Her son had started following the sound of familiar voices, watching Hermione as she moved about the room and gracing everyone he knew with a gummy smile. Harry did everything in his power to make Sebastian grin at him, even if it meant risking Ginny's ire by stealing him away.

"He should be by soon," Hermione smiled from the couch, watching Harry as he gently laid Sebastian down on his tummy amidst some toys. The wards in front of the fireplace shimmered briefly as Sebastian was brought close to them and Hermione eyed them approvingly. Molly's book had been more than just helpful, it had been brilliant; it was chalk full of helpful charms and spells, the best being the ones on how to ward a magical home against a magical baby. All of the wards were keyed directly to Sebastian which meant everyone else could come and go through them but only Severus or Hermione could bring Sebastian through any of the safety wards, including the one around the fireplace.

"He seemed a bit fecked off when he called through the Floo earlier," Harry noted, tickling Sebastian's sides and watching his feet kick out wildly.

"Harry, don't swear in front of the baby," Ginny said, nudging her boyfriend with her foot. "He'll understand you one day. Do you want his first word to be a curse?"

"Severus would murder you," Hermione grinned devilishly.

"Don't look so pleased about it," Harry shot at her.

"I'd help him," she informed her friend and rolled her eyes at his wounded look. "And yes, he did seem irritated. He said something about a shipment of supplies being botched but he was so rushed that I barely caught any of it."

"It's nice that he comes by for dinner every day," Ginny said, curling her feet under her as the two witches sat on the couch and watched Harry tease Sebastian. Hermione smiled as Harry made exaggerated faces and pretended to eat her son's toes. Sebastian hadn't noticed as he was too busy helping his uncle on the road to baldness.

The Floo flared green, causing Sebastian to let go of Harry's hair and look up in shock as Lavender stepped out of the fireplace.

"Hello little man!" she said immediately, spotting him on the floor in front of the couch. She barely bothered to brush her robes off before she was settled on the floor, her back against the couch and a hand running gently over Sebastian's mop of black hair.

"Hello to you too Lavender," Harry grinned wryly and Lavender flipped him off with her fingers before she turned around to look at Hermione. "I hounded Kingsley like you asked. He said he'd consider your request to work out of the house but only if you stopped sending your lackeys after him."

"My lackeys?" Hermione snorted. "Asking you and Harry doesn't count as having lackeys. And I didn't say _hound_ him, I said _remind_ him. There _is_ a difference."

"Dad was asking for you too," Ginny grinned. "It seems your weekly visits with mum have spilled over into dinner table talk and she convinced him that Kingsley would be more willing to listen if the words came from someone older."

Hermione rolled her eyes but smiled anyway. Some things about Molly would never change but she found that she didn't wholly mind. The older witch had been coming by once a week for lunch, mostly to talk to Hermione about raising seven magical children, but also to spend time with the younger woman. Hermione visited the Burrow on days that Molly knew Ron wouldn't be by. She had never expressly stated it but since she had gotten that first emergency owl saying that 'something' had come up and could they reschedule she had a feeling Molly was trying to avoid an all out battle over her kitchen table. They were slowly mending their relationship and while they still butted heads, Hermione found that she was getting back to that place where she felt she could trust the older witch implicitly.

"Hey look!" Harry cried, drawing everyone's attention to the floor where he lay face to face with Sebastian. Hermione watched, a smile fit to split her face, as her son pushed himself up with his hands for the first time, lifting his head and shoulder's high off the charmed blanket, and looking directly at his uncle.

Lavender and Ginny clapped, the latter crying "Good job Sebastian!", as the Floo turned green once more and Severus stepped out into the sitting room.

"You're just in time!" Lavender exclaimed, her face alight with excitement. "Sebastian is starting to lift himself off the ground!"

Hermione laughed as his little arms gave out and he slid back down to his belly, not worried about him hurting himself because of the Cushioning Charms that were always placed on the floor. He frowned slightly, clearly unhappy with where he found himself, and Harry laughed as he looked up at Severus.

"He definitely looks like you Snape, he's got your patented facial expression down already," he joked.

Hermione winced internally and looked up to see how Severus would take this gentle teasing that Harry was prone to delivering only to find that he was glaring daggers at _her_. She blinked, shocked and struggling to process his unexpected reaction, when he spun on his heel and strode right back into the Floo without a word to any of them. She watched as the green flame consumed him and he disappeared from her view. A stunned silence ensued and it felt like eons before Ginny broke it.

"Well, I haven't seen him look _that_ livid since the time Luna, Neville and I tried to steal the Sword of Gryffindor from his office."

Harry turned and looked up at her, his face apologetic. "I didn't mean to—"

"It's okay Harry," she said, standing up and waving him off. She frowned angrily at the fireplace as if the man in question as still standing in front of it. Carefully, she stepped around her baby and leaned down to place a quick kiss on his head. Straightening, she turned and grabbed the Floo powder.

"Watch Sebastian for me for a bit? I should be back pretty quickly."

They all nodded in unison and Hermione didn't wait for anything else as she tossed the powder into the fire and called out, "Spinner's End!"

She stepped into the flame and felt it rush around her like a maelstrom before a sitting room she'd never seen before came into view and she exited. Her feet landed on a threadbare rug and she could feel the cold of the stone below it through her socks. A quick look around her revealed a small room made smaller by the bookshelves that lined every wall and the sparse furniture that dotted it. Three chairs, two of them piled high with parchment and books, lay about the room with a small table equally burdened as their only company. The one thing missing was Severus.

"Severus!" she yelled, taking another step into the room.

She heard a muffled thump seconds before the bookcase to her right opened and Severus stepped out of it. His face was calm, his eyes shuttered, and when he looked down his nose at her he was every inch the Professor she had grown up around.

"What on earth is wrong?" she demanded, walking up to him, torn between concern and anger.

"Contrary to what you may think, your presence is not wanted, Miss Granger," he said snidely. "Please see yourself out."

Without waiting for her to say anything, he turned on his heel and proceeded back up the narrow stairs that she could just see behind the bookcase. The anger she had been holding at bay flared to life as she watched the book case slowly close behind him. Without thinking about it, she leapt forward and yanked on the side of the hidden door, pulling it open so violently that the books on the other side of it knocked about precariously.

"How _dare_ you!" she hissed at him, following him up a few steps. He paused and glared down at her. "'Miss Granger', is it? Was I 'Miss Granger' when you were fucking me on my floor, _Severus_?" she demanded, stomping up the wooden steps until she was one ahead of him and almost at eye level. "Was I 'Miss Granger' when I gave birth to _your son_?" she yelled in his face.

Something shifted in his expression and she was close enough to him to see the flare of anger that he had clearly been hiding earlier come to life in his eyes. "That's right, he's _my_ son," he growled, his voice hard and cold. "Mine! Not _Potter's!_" he spat the name as if it tasted foul on his lips and leaned forward into her personal space, making her back up involuntarily until her back pressed against the wall.

"Are you...jealous?" Hermione breathed, frowning. It was a concept that hadn't really occurred to her earlier and now that it was, her mind was racing trying to figure out if she was right.

"What could I possibly have to be jealous of, _Hermione?"_ he sneered at her, his warm breath wafting over her face and smelling slightly sweet. "That Potter and your friends see more of my son than I do? That _they_ are witness to so many of these so called 'milestones'," he waved his fingers in the air in an imitation of quotes. "Or perhaps I should be jealous of the fact that _my son_ smiles for Harry fucking Potter when he barely seems to know who I am?"

"He's only three months old!" Hermione said defensively. "The only person he knows for sure is me and that's because he's with me all the time!"

"And why aren't I?" Severus countered angrily. "I'm his father, am I not? I thought you wanted me to be part of his life, or was that just _the hormones talking_?"

Hermione gasped and pulled her head back, smacking it off the wall behind her without really noticing. Her mind flew to the conversation she had had with Harry months ago in her bedroom at Lavender's as Severus' words gave her a sense of déjà vu.

"Did Harry tell you...?" she asked quietly, not quite believing that Harry and Severus had sat down to have a civil conversation about her and her feelings.

"I was there," he sneered. "Your dear friend thought to force a reconciliation between the two of us, but he never came out to get me, so I listened at the door."

"That was a private conversation!" she spat. "How dare you violate my privacy like that?"

"The same way you violated my right to know that you were pregnant?" Severus hissed and his voice took on that deceptively calm tone she had only heard a few times. "If we're going to be comparing points here, Hermione, we really ought to talk about how you hid my son from me for almost nine months and would have hid him for the rest of his life had you had the chance."

"I admitted that I was wrong for that," she said, glaring at him and how close he was to her. It was a strange contrast, the coolness of the wall at her back and the warmth of his body barely brushing hers in front.

"Admission doesn't clear guilt," he growled softly, taking a step back and leaning against the other wall, his hands clenched in tight fists against the banister.

"No, it doesn't, but what would you like me to do, Severus?" she ground out, her patience at an all time low. "I'm _trying_ to make things work here but you! You don't talk about anything! You don't tell me what you want, or expect, or how you feel! All this time I've been waiting for you to show some sign that you might be ready to talk about what we're going to do in the future, how we're going to raise our son and if it's going to be together or not and you're too busy brooding instead of _talking to me_!"

"What would you have me say?" he yelled at her, his face twisted with rage. "Would you have me bare my soul to you in some idiotic romantic gesture? To have you mock me behind my back with Miss Brown? Is that what—"

His tirade was cut off as Hermione reached up and slapped a hand over his mouth as if he were a naughty boy. His eyes went impossibly wide and she wondered for a heartbeat of a time whether or not anyone had ever _dared_ to put hands on Severus Snape like this before.

"What I want is for you to tell me what _you_ want," she said softly. "I want to know if you want a future with Sebastian, with _me_. I need to know."

The fight seemed to leave him at her admission and he slumped against the wall, making no move to push away her hand. His eyes held hers as she slowly took it away and waited for him to speak.

"I—Hermione," he began, frowning and looking down at where her hand had come to rest against his chest. "I want—"

He couldn't seem to form the words and Hermione felt tears of frustration well up in her eyes. Why couldn't the man just _talk_ to her? What was so hard about that? How was it that they had gotten to this point without being able to _talk_ to each other? They had a son, for crying out loud, but they couldn't have a discussion about their future, or how they felt about each other.

"I want..." he began again and slowly, he reached for her hand, pulling it away from his chest and holding it in his own. "I want to try."

Her limbs, held tight and tense during their yelling, suddenly felt loose and unable to hold her up. She slumped against the wall behind her, an unconscious mirror image of his own pose, and put a shaky hand over her eyes. Without warning, her breath shuddered and she felt her eyes sting. "Yes. I want that, too," she choked.

"Okay," he murmured. She heard the stairs creak as his weight shifted and his fingers gently touched the back of her hand. "Don't cry. I don't know what to do when you cry," he confessed.

She laughed suddenly, dropping her hand to look at him. His face was, for the first time, completely open and completely bewildered. "You hold me. That's what you do."

"Okay," he said again, reaching for her this time and pulling her close to him. She went willingly and slipped easily into his embrace. She sighed softly as she fit her arms around him, her feet balancing awkwardly on the stairs next to his and her head against his wool covered chest.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I didn't realize."

"Which part?" he asked, the sound of his voice deeper and stronger with her head pressed over his heart.

"All of it, really," she murmured, holding him tighter. "But mostly about Sebastian."

"I want to know him the way your friends do," he said quietly. He sounded hesitant with his words, as if he wasn't sure of them, or himself.

"You're his father," Hermione said. "You take priority, always."

"Do I?" he asked, genuinely curious. She pulled back and tilted her face up to look him in the eye.

"Yes," she said softly. "You do."

Her eyes darted to his mouth and back before she slowly pushed up onto her toes and cupped his face with her hand. He watched her, his eyes unreadable and she smiled slightly, remembering the first night she had kissed him.

"Last chance," she whispered.

"I don't need it," he murmured back, leaning down and sealing his mouth over hers.

Every nerve ending in her body sang as she wound her arms around his neck and pulled herself ever closer to him. They had shared a grand total of two kisses since that night and both of them had been initiated by her, leaving him stunned. This time, he was an active participant and it made all the difference.

His hands grabbed at her clothes, pulling her flush against him and making her feet scramble for purchase between his legs. One hand let go of her waist and reached out, grabbing on to the banister to prevent them from slipping.

He pulled back just enough to breathe. "We shouldn't be doing this here."

"No," she agreed.

"Is this wise?" he asked.

"I have no idea."

"Are we stopping?"

"Not on your life."

The smallest of smiles graced his lips before he dipped his head and kissed her once more, slanting his mouth against hers and making her arch back to keep her body in as much contact with his as possible. She groaned and shifted her grip to his collar, pulling him down to her and making the pair of them stumble awkwardly on the stairs. Only Severus' hand on the banister kept them from falling as they broke apart and stared at each other, lips shining and chests heaving slightly.

"Last time we didn't make it to the bedroom," she grinned at him. "Do you think we can beat our record this time? Perhaps the floor _of_ the bedroom?"

"I prefer to exceed expectations," he smirked at her and reached out for her hand. "I have a perfectly good bed and this time I plan to use it."

She chuckled, letting him draw her up the narrow stairs and on to a dimly lit landing that stretched down a long hall with several closed doors. He passed two and stopped at a third, a thick wooden door with a brass knob. He turned to face her, his expression just a little bit wary.

"Last chance."

Hermione rolled her eyes and grabbed a fist full of his robes with one hand and the knob with the other, turning it as she spoke. "Shut up and kiss me," she growled pushing open the door as she pulled him along.

He complied without complaint, kissing her almost feverishly as they came to a stop in the middle of a room that she was too busy to take note of. Her hands quickly divested him of his cloak, pushing it off his shoulders and letting the deep green material pool to the ground. He had a distinct advantage in the fact that her Muggle jumper was designed with a deep V neck and did not resist as he pulled it aside to reveal her neck and collar bone. His lips latched on to her skin and she almost lost her focus as her fingers fumbled with his many buttons.

"We're going to have to do something about you and your buttons," she said hoarsely, slapping her palm against his chest and forcing her magic out of her fingertips. This time, however, she had a bit more control and merely made the garment unbutton itself instead of shed them entirely.

"I must confess, I like how easily frustrated you get over them," he murmured, his voice deep and smooth against her ear. She shivered and turned her head to nip at his neck. She felt the twisted skin of scar tissue and for a split second Severus froze over the contact but Hermione didn't let him linger on it as she traced a muscle up behind his ear, kissing her way into his hair.

"Why do you always smell like herbs?" she murmured, pulling his jacket open without looking and letting her hands wander over the white shirt she knew to be underneath.

"I'm around them," he said simply, his own hands slipping under her both her jumper and the tank top underneath to caress her skin. The feel of his fingertips tracing her ribs made her shiver again and a delicious heat unfurl in her gut.

"Good point," she murmured, her hands working the tails of his linen shirt out of his trousers as quickly as she could.

"Hands up," he said softly into her ear. Hermione didn't even think about not complying and lifted her arms up over her head. It wasn't until Severus was peeling off all her layers, leaving her in just her bra and jeans that her self-consciousness kicked in.

As soon as the sweater and tangled tank top were free of her limbs she snatched at it and held it to her chest, making Severus arch an eyebrow at her.

"I—I've changed a bit," she said hesitantly, the embarrassment cooling her ardour slightly. "Since, well, last time."

"There is nothing wrong," he said softly, stepping closer and gently pulling on the sweater that she held tight to her chest and stomach, "with looking like a woman who has borne a child."

"I know," she insisted, even though she really _didn't_ know. "I just...I haven't—Christ."

"Let me see you," he whispered, tugging on the sweater a little more. This time, she let it go, feeling the blush creep up her chest and neck as he dropped her clothes onto the floor with his robe and let his eyes rove over her. They glittered darkly in the dim light of his bedroom and she fought the urge to wrap her arms around herself. She had gained a bit of weight that she hadn't been able to lose yet, making her thicker around the waist and thighs; her breasts were still heavy with milk and while definitely round and full, she knew that they weren't as perky as they had once been.

"You think you're not beautiful?" he asked softly. "Because you have scars? Because your body is not what it once was?"

"I...," she trailed off, confused, as Severus began to shed his clothes, slipping out of the wool jacket he always wore and swiftly unbuttoning the linen shirt that was half out of his trousers as she watched. When his shirt opened to reveal a pale chest dotted with black, curly hairs, she understood the point that he was trying to make.

During their last tryst, Hermione had been far too drunk to really _see_ Severus as they fucked on the floor of her hallway. Like she had said, they had never made it to the bedroom—though she had had plenty of dreams about what might have happened had they gotten there and even more about all the things that could have happened in other areas of her flat. The reality, however, was quite different. Scars of various sizes, some long and thin, others fat and ropey, dotted his chest and hips. One in particular drew her eye, it started just under his left nipple and crossed over his stomach, marring the soft roundness of his navel, and disappearing under his trousers. Her eyes catalogued all of this before slowly dragging back up to his dark eyes. He said nothing, just watched her, waiting for her verdict. She could only imagine how it felt to put himself on display in such a manner, especially for such a private man.

If one could look past the scars that marred his body, Severus was still quite fit. He was by no means well defined but his stomach was flat and hard and his shoulders lined with wiry muscles that belied a hidden strength. Part of her wanted to walk up to him and kiss each of those scars that had no doubt caused him immeasurable amounts of pain but another part of her knew that that was not what he wanted; he wasn't looking for reassurance, he was trying to provide it.

Slowly, she reached down to unfasten the button on her denims and draw down the zip. She struggled to hold his gaze as she slid the material down her thighs and stepped out of the protection it afforded. There was something extremely intimate about undressing in front of a man, especially when he refused to let you look away from his hooded gaze.

Mirroring her movements, Severus shed his trousers, his eyes burning hotly as she stood there in her bra and knickers. When his belt hit the floor with a hard thunk she dared to release his eyes and let her gaze wander down to the tented grey boxers he wore, her breath catching slightly in her throat. She felt a thrill of excitement go through her at the evidence that he wanted her still.

She quickly closed the gap between them, one hand going round his waist and pulling his hips flush against hers and the other to the back of his neck to pull him down for a kiss. He groaned at the contact while both of his hands came around her, his large palms spanning her back and his fingers fighting with her bra. He quickly managed to free her of it and together they stumbled backwards towards his bed until Hermione's knees hit the edge.

She sat down hard but didn't think to let go of Severus' neck and shoulders when she did. The result was him falling forward to knock his forehead off of hers.

"Ow!" Hermione laughed. Her hand flew up to forehead as she grinned at him sheepishly. "You've got a hard head."

"One could make the argument that your Gryffindor head is harder," he laughed, rubbing at his own.

Hermione let the sound of his laughter fall over her as she pulled him down to her, this time avoiding a collision, and lay back on his bed. His body quickly covered hers and another thrill shot through her at the _newness_ of it all. They may have had sex before, but they had never done _this_.

"Kiss me, Severus," she whispered against his mouth.

"As bossy as ever," he murmured, pressing his lips against hers before she could retort.

She lifted her legs and wound them around his hips, bringing his erection into close contact with her body. He grunted at the sensation and she grinned triumphantly, taking advantage of his momentary distraction to roll them over. Their kiss broke as they turned and she sat up, straddling his hips comfortably.

"I hope you're not attached to these," she said cryptically, grinning down at him.

"Attached to what?" he asked, his mouth wet from her kisses.

Hermione concentrated for a second before she waved her hand over the area of her groin, where it was nestled against his. She felt the shimmer of her magic ghost over their skin seconds before the rest of their clothing disappeared.

The change was instantaneous. The feel of his hardness against her slick skin was glorious and she couldn't help but shift her hips, watching his eyes roll back into his head as his mouth fell open. His hands came up to her waist—whether to hold or guide, she didn't know but nor did she care—as she continued to shift back and forth.

"Hermione," he choked out her name as his hands tried to still her movement. "This is going to be over before it starts if you don't stop."

"_Accio Wand!_" she turned and held her hand out, watching her wand slap into her palm handle first. Swiftly she turned about and aimed it at the skin just below her navel and, with a whispered spell, more magic danced along her skin. She felt the tingle spread throughout her womb and knew that she had done the spell correctly.

Tossing her wand aside, she heard it roll off the bed and hit the floor with a small clatter but she didn't care.

"Look at us, learning to do things properly," he said as he watched her, his eyes burning. She noted that he didn't call his son a 'mistake'.

"In a bed and everything," she whispered, lifting up to grab hold of him and guide him into her body.

Words ceased to matter as she slowly lowered herself onto him, feeling his body fill hers until he was fully seated. That sensation of fullness equated to rightness in her mind and she took a moment to savour it before planting her hands on his stomach and rising up. Severus' hands clenched around her hips as she set the pace, rocking atop him with a steady rhythm that gradually picked up pace.

"You're beautiful," he murmured softly, sitting up to cup her face. He released her waist to prop himself up and flex his hips in time with her thrusts. "Did you know that? You're beautiful."

She didn't know what to say to that and so she kissed him instead, a wordless thank you. She dug both hands into his hair, pulling it back from his face so that she could see his expression as she rode him. His eyes fluttered closed and his mouth dropped open once more, small sounds of pleasure slipping from his lips as they moved together.

"Hermione, I'm—," his eyes flew open as he reached between them to touch her. His fingers found her unerringly, rolling her swollen flesh sweetly and making her back arch as she lost the rhythm.

Severus picked it up, planting his feet against the floor and thrusting up into her hard.

"Hermione, I'm sorry," he whispered. "I'm going to come."

"Come with me, then," she murmured back, pulling him in for a kiss just as pleasure exploded through her body, spreading from her groin to suffuse her limbs with an addicting warmth. She pulled away from his mouth, throwing her head back as a whispered 'Yes' fell from her lips.

Severus grunted, his hand moving around to her back to press her close to him as her orgasm washed over him and ripped his own from his body. She clutched his head close as he pressed his face to her collarbone and groaned her name against her damp flesh, his hips still thrusting into her as he rode out his pleasure. She was sure her heart was about to pound right out of her chest but in that moment, she wouldn't have minded. That feeling of _rightness_ was compounded by the tightness of his arms around her and the wild beat of his own heart against her breast.

Slowly, Hermione came down from her high and released her death like grip on his slightly damp hair, letting her fingers slide down his scalp to his neck where they rested.

"I'm—"

"Not sorry in the slightest," she breathed, the fine sheen of sweat on her body beginning to cool. He looked up at her and smiled crookedly, his face relaxed and happy for the first time in weeks. She hadn't seen that look on his face since he had given Sebastian a bath in her kitchen sink.

"Neither am I but I wasn't going to say—," he tried again but she cut him off once more.

"Move in with me," she offered impulsively, biting her lip and looking down as her fingers fidgeted with the ends of his hair. She barely caught the widening of his eyes before she zeroed in on the dip of his collarbone. "It doesn't have to be permanent, Merlin knows my place is too small for that, I'm going to have to get a bigger flat once Sebastian gets older anyway but I could maybe put a bed in the nursery, or you could, I dunno, sleep in my bed," she babbled, not even bothering to finish sentences or take a breath. "If you wanted to, that is. I couldn't fit a very large bed in the nursery, it's a bit on the small side as it is, but we could make it work, you know? And that way you'd be able to see more of Sebastian, I want you to see more of him, you're right, you know, he needs to know you better. Besides, I could use a—"

She broke off at the distinct sound of something being knocked over downstairs and a male voice cursing. "What was that?" she asked, eyes wide.

"That was what I was trying to tell you," he lifted a sardonic eyebrow and shifted slightly, reminding her that they were still intimately connected. "I'm pretty sure you have a search party after you."

"Oh shit!" she groaned, climbing off of his lap and looking for her wand. "I told them I wouldn't take long and..." she trailed off, eyes darting about for the familiar piece of birch. With her luck, it was probably under his bed.

Her gaze spread wider and she realized that their clothing littered the area of his room directly adjacent to his bed. Thankfully, that area was close to his desk and chair, which happened to have a long black dressing robe draped over the back of it. She lunged forward and seized it, throwing it about her shoulders and quickly belting it around her. The material was much too large, as evidenced by the fact that the belt went around her arse instead of her waist, but it would have to do.

"I'll be back!" she said and ran from the room, her feet thundering down the stairs and, once again, leaving Severus Snape slightly stunned in her wake.

Hermione burst from the hidden stairway and scared the crap out of Harry who spun around on his heel, brandishing his wand.

"What the—Hermione!" he spluttered. "Why are you in a robe? Is that...? Oh hell," he groaned and turned back around. "Put some damn clothes on, witch!"

"Harry, I _have_ clothes on," she said, as if explaining this to a toddler. "They just happen to belong to Severus!" she added, smiling cheekily, not that he could see.

Harry groaned and kept his back turned to her. "I take it things are fine then? No one is hurting the other?"

"Depends on your definition of pain," she said thoughtfully, unable to resist teasing him. "I was thinking that this robe has a pretty long sash so I could probably use it to tie Sev—"

"LALALAI'MGOINGNOW!" Harry yelled, clapping his hands over his ears and dashing for the fireplace. He had to remove one hand from his ear as he reached for Floo powder and threw it quickly in, yelling out Hermione's address almost before the flames at turned green.

Hermione watched him disappear with a self satisfied smirk and turned around to head back upstairs. She had only just pulled open the still slightly ajar door when she came face to face with a smirking Severus. He was wearing what looked like his white linen shirt transfigured into a robe and a grin that could only be described as 'shit eating'.

"Hmm, still listening from doorways, I see?" she arched an eyebrow at him.

"I was a spy for twenty years, witch," he said, pulling her closer by the sash of the robe she wore. "Some habits die harder than others."

"How about some new habits?" she asked smiling as she leaned against him. "Say...breakfast in bed on Sundays?"

"That would be lovely," he grinned. "I like my bacon crispy."

She pinched him as he laughed. "Git," she muttered, enjoying the unfamiliar sound of his mirth.

"Come back to bed," he said, pulling her by the hand with a smile still on his face.

She couldn't say no to _that_, now could she?


	13. Chapter 13

**Cliché **

**Heyo! I'm still here, knock on wood. **

**One quick thing: People keep telling me that I have a ton of spelling errors in here and I'd like to shed a little light on the issue: **

**I am Canadian. Amongst many other myths that need to be dispelled about my great country (igloos, no; maple syrup, kind of; 'eh', most definitely) is the belief that we spell everything incorrectly according to American standards. Actually, we just speak, read, and write The Queen's English. It's one of those 'part of the British Commonwealth' things that make us different from the Yanks. We often have an extra U in words that Americans don't (honour, colour), or an S where they would put a Z (apologise vs apologize). Then there are words like 'cheque' (as in "Waiter, can I get the cheque, please?") instead of 'check' (which is "Place a check mark next to your name" to us). These are just regional differences that can be traced back to the different ways in which our respective countries declared independence from Great Britain. But that's a whole different story. **

**Oh, if you're here from Granger Enchanted because the story hasn't been updating there it's, uhm, because I might have, um, forgotten to upload it there, uhm...yeah. Sorry? **

_**3 months, 1 week:**_

Hermione slowly woke to the brightness of the morning and stretched luxuriously in bed. She groaned appreciatively as her muscles loosened and she kicked off the covers. Her feet met with the cold floor and she smiled to think that it was the first time that she hadn't had to get up to deal with Sebastian in the middle of the night. It hadn't been planned but she wasn't surprised; with Severus kipped on a small cot in the nursery and the fridge stocked with bottles of breast milk he had clearly taken night time feedings on his own.

Slipping on a dressing gown over her white tank top and dark blue sleep pants, Hermione left her bedroom and headed for her son's. She opened the door slowly so as not to wake anyone and found that only one of the occupants was still asleep.

"Hi, sweetie," she whispered as she tip toed across the room to her son. He was awake and waiting for her; a happy little gurgle greeted her.

"Shhh, love," she murmured quietly, picking him up from his crib. "We don't want to wake your daddy."

Hermione cast an eye over her shoulder to see that Severus was still asleep. He looked so different in a pair of grey sleep pants and a white t-shirt and it made her smile to see him as others rarely got the chance to. His breathing was deep and even but his face was stiff and she wondered if he was sleeping well on that tiny cot. Quickly and quietly she gathered a few things for Sebastian from the room and tip toed back out, closing the door behind her.

"It's his first day here. We should let him sleep." She kissed Sebastian's chubby cheeks as she padded quietly down the hall.

Once there she deposited him into a Muggle seat that took up the majority of the small kitchen table when placed atop it. Normally this didn't matter since Hermione never entertained for breakfast but she thought that she might have to enlarge the table to accommodate Severus when he woke. With a shrug and a flick of her wand she turned on the radio and decided that she'd deal with it later.

"_...many days in year? She woke up with hope but she only found tears..._"

Hermione began humming along with the soft music as she stood on tiptoes to retrieve her teapot from a cupboard. Filling the kettle with water from the sink she placed it on the stove and jabbed the element with her wand to light the flame. Turning to her son, she found him watching her intently.

"Well, your clothes never wear as well the next day and your hair never falls in quite the same way, you never seem to run out of things to saaaay," she sang, making the babe smile. She began to dance her way around the kitchen; grabbing her tea leaves and dropping a handful in the teapot before turning to her son and giving him a little dance that made him giggle.

Singing and dancing her way through the making of toast and tea, Hermione was completely oblivious to the fact that Severus had woken and followed the sound of her antics to the kitchen. It was only as she turned, still shaking her hips to the beat of the song, with a full teapot in one hand and a plate of toast in the other that she spotted him. He stood in the entrance to her kitchen with his shoulder against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest, and a smirk on his face. With a gasp she started and dropped everything in her hands.

Her embarrassment instantly switched to pain as the teapot smashed on the floor and washed piping hot tea all over her bare feet. Sebastian let out a startled cry as she shrieked and scurried backwards, reaching for the counter behind her. She had barely hauled herself on to it before Severus had his wand out and was Vanishing the mess on her floor.

"Hermione, I am so sorry," he murmured, rushing forward to take her dripping, red feet in his hands. She let out a little cry as he touched the tender flesh and he dropped them immediately.

"You need a burn paste," he told her. He quickly scooped her into his arms, carefully avoiding her feet, and headed for the bathroom.

"Sebastian!" she said, finally gaining some clarity through the pain that was racing up her legs. "What about Sebastian?"

"I'll get him in a minute," he grunted, shifting his grip on her weight. "I only have so many hands, woman."

"Will he—"

"He'll be fine for the two minutes he'll be alone," Severus said, nudging the bathroom door open with his foot. He deposited her on the counter top and commanded her to stay before he turned and left. When he returned it was with Sebastian in his seat which Severus deposited carefully on floor just outside the small bathroom where they could both see him.

"Where is your burn paste?" he demanded, reaching over her head to rifle through the cabinet behind the mirror. She could hear the glass phials tinkling against each other as he moved them aside in search of a pot that could hold his quarry.

"I don't have any," she told him, looking down at her red and swelling feet. "It expired a couple months ago and I haven't replaced it."

"Merlin's pants, witch!" Severus snarled, closing the mirror door with more force than strictly necessary. "You have a child in the house and you don't have magical remedies? I know that you are a Muggle-born but must you—"

"_Hey_," Hermione warned, her anger rising. "It was a simple mistake. The paste expired and I forgot to replace it. It's not like I haven't had a lot on my mind recently or anything!"

Severus paused and seemed to visibly swallow his retort. She watched his eyes as he apparently realized that he had been a bit too harsh, especially for first thing in the morning.

"My apologies," he murmured quietly, not meeting her eye. "I should not have implied that you are incapable because of your heritage."

Hermione sighed and rolled her eyes. "No, you should have implied that I'm incapable because I'm a Gryffindor, or a woman, or perhaps too young, instead."

"You are not incapable...most of the time," he admitted quietly.

"Oho!" she snorted. "Mark it on the calendar. Severus Snape has paid me a compliment."

"It's not _that_ rare," he glared at her from underneath unkempt and unwashed hair.

She arched an eyebrow at him. His lips thinned.

"I will see if there is anything in your kitchen that will suffice for now."

She watched his retreat and careful manoeuvring around his son's seat. "I'll just stay here, shall I?"

He didn't answer and Hermione rolled her eyes. "Your father is going to try my patience, Sebastian," she told her son. The baby didn't answer and didn't seem to care as he stared off at something that only he could see.

Hermione sighed and looked down at her feet. They looked mildly grotesque; her toes were swollen and almost comical were it not for the blisters that had developed where the skin had been burnt beyond tolerance. Her mind briefly compared her feet to that of a lobster and she was about to swear off that particularly seafood when Severus returned with several items in his arms as well as her mortar and pestle.

"What are you going to do?" she asked, shuffling sideways to give him a bit of room on the counter.

"Always full of questions," he muttered.

"Of course," she answered cheerfully. "Now tell me your ways Obi Wan."

He looked up at her as if she were mental. Picking up his wand and a mango, he asked, "Obi Wan?"

"It's a Muggle thing," she waved her hand dismissively. "Now tell me before I badger you into an early grave."

Severus' lips twitched with amusement but he set about explaining what he was doing. With his wand he skinned the mango and separated it from the core as he told her that the cool flesh of the fruit would help draw the heat out of her skin. He mixed sage and cinnamon in the mortar before he set to grinding it together into a find powder. This, he explained, would help take away the sting that accompanies tender flesh. He mixed in the mango, mashing it up with the powder, until they were well mixed*.

"Give me your foot," he murmured, placing the pestle down on the counter. He propped his knee up on the counter and gently placed her heel on his thigh before taking a scoop of the goop and spreading it over the top of one foot.

Hermione hissed at how cold the mango felt against her hot skin and instinctively jerked her foot away from the pain. Severus put the mortar down on the counter and pushed up her pant leg so that he could hold her shin tightly in his large hand. He murmured soothingly as he spread the mixture over her foot and toes before gently grabbing the other and repeating the process.

When he was done he quickly used his wand to spell away the mess that he had created and picked her up once more.

"You should sit on the side of the tub," he told her, placing her there. "Prop your feet up on the lavatory lid so that the mixture doesn't slide off before I get back."

"Where are you going?"

"My home is well stocked, I have burn paste there as well as a few other potions you should have on hand," he told her neutrally.

"Like what?" Hermione asked. "I thought I was pretty well stocked."

"You are low on Headache remedy and your rash cream for Sebastian is slowly turning yellow, it will go bad soon. I have the ingredients to make more," he said as he collected the spice bottles he had nicked from her kitchen and the now clean mortar and pestle. "I will not be long. Do you wish for me to take Sebastian with me or are you capable of handling him?"

"I'll be fine," she assured him. "Just bring him closer, if you don't mind?"

"Of course," he murmured. With a flick of his fingers the seat levitated slightly and came to rest next to the bathtub. It took up the majority of the floor space in her small bathroom and Severus had to carefully step around it to leave.

"Severus?"

He paused and looked back over his shoulder at her, his face unreadable.

"Thanks for taking care of me," she smiled softly.

He smiled slightly in response and nodded. "I will return shortly."

Hermione heard him head back to the kitchen and deposit his burden before the Floo activated a few minutes later. She looked down at her goopy feat and sighed.

"I never used to be so clumsy, you know," she told her son. He looked at her and let out a happy shriek, reaching out one chubby hand towards her. She smiled and reached out to him, making the boy giggle.

Several minutes passed as Hermione played with her son's hands and feet and waited for Severus to return. After a while she decided, since he was taking so long and the pain in her feet had been reduced to a dull ache, that she would take her morning bath. Pulling her wand out of the pocket of her robe, Hermione quickly divested herself of her clothing. Sebastian shrieked and laughed at the display of magic as he so often did. She smiled and, wanting to hear him laugh some more, turned on the taps with her wand instead of her hand. He did not disappoint and kept up a happy soliloquy as she filled the tub, added bubbles and transfigured his seat so that it stood tall enough for him to see her over the rim of porcelain.

Placing her wand on the side of the tub, Hermione carefully lowered herself backwards and into the warm water. She sighed happily as the bubbles enveloped her and her muscles began to relax. She wasn't even all that uncomfortable with her feet perched on the edge of the tub and out of the way of the water.

That was how Severus found her, almost a half an hour later, as she made the bubbles shape themselves into animals for Sebastian's amusement. The door opened and he strode in, clearly not expecting her to be naked. In his hands were several phials and an earthen pot that most likely contained the burn paste. He stopped short and his eyes widened at the state of her undress but to his credit he did not drop anything like she had.

"I—I—I didn't mean—sorry," he stammered, averting his eyes and backing out. He bumped into the counter with his hip and almost tripped over the legs of Sebastian's seat as he tried to extricate himself from the situation.

"Severus!" Hermione called, laughing as he finally managed to get out of the bathroom. "Severus, come back! It's not like you've never seen me naked before!"

"Since when did you become an exhibitionist?" he demanded from the apparent safety of the hall. "I seem to recall you being shy."

"Yes, but you've seen it all, have you not?" she reasoned. "What's the point in hiding now? Come back in here you silly man."

She heard his pained sigh but he returned and she noticed for the first time that he was dressed differently. "That's not what you left in. Were you attacked by a wardrobe or something?"

"Har, har," he muttered, placing the phials and pot on the counter top before he sat down on the closed toilet lid. "I realized that I did not have all the ingredients I thought I did at my home. I had to go to my shop and I thought it might be more appropriate to be dressed to do so."

Hermione shrugged lightly. "I suppose so but I think I prefer you in sleep clothes."

Severus pulled his wand out of his sleeve and cast her another look that clearly said he worried for her mental state. With a wave of ebony he cleared away the mango mess from her feet. "Why on earth would you prefer that?"

"Because I'm the only one who gets to see it," she admitted, smiling as a light flush crept up his neck and into his face. Instead of responding, he gently took her foot in his hand and reached for the earth ware pot. He scooped out a liberal mount of the grey paste and spread it gently over her foot. Hermione tensed with the brief pain but it didn't last long as the magic of the remedy began working on her injury.

"Oh sweet Merlin," she moaned, sinking lower into the water. "Thank god for magic."

"Indeed," Severus muttered, his head down and face obscured by hair.

He worked in silence, spreading and massaging the cream into her skin. Hermione stopped watching and instead focused on enjoying the tingling feeling of magic and his fingers on her body. She knew that the redness of her skin would be dissipating and that the swelling and blisters would slowly vanish as well so she felt no need to catalogue the improvements. She trusted Severus' brewing abilities over anyone else's.

"Have I told you lately that you're incredible?" she murmured, completely relaxed with her feet in his hands and the warm water surrounding her. Sebastian was blissfully quiet for once and Hermione could almost forget that he was in the room. "Because you are. Bloody brilliant."

"Have you been drinking?" he asked dryly.

"Nooope," Hermione grinned. "I speak only the truth."

Severus was silent and Hermione let him be. She knew that he tended to react with disbelief or silence whenever he was complimented; she had noticed it before. The only time he accepted praise or compliments was when it was in reference to his son. He nearly smiled when she had informed him that he was far better at nappy changing than Harry was and he had nodded deferentially to Lavender when she had told him that she was impressed with how easily he seemed to take being a father. Anything else was a no-go.

"I am far from incredible," he finally said, his hands still smoothing over her skin even though the paste had been worked in thoroughly. "I am a difficult man to live with, Hermione."

"It will be weird living together," she agreed quietly. He snorted.

"Weird is not the word I would have chosen," he said. "We very nearly had an argument this morning over something that was completely my fault."

"It wasn't anyone's fault, Severus," Hermione countered, sitting up a bit. She watched his eyes dart from her feet to her now exposed and soapy breasts. "It was an accident, plain and simple. It's not like you meant to startle me into dropping tea all over my feet."

"I...wasn't referring to the tea," he said, looking back down at her foot, his face almost completely hidden by his hair. "I made a careless comment designed to hurt."

"Did you mean it?" she asked. "Do you honestly think that I'm inadequate as a Muggle-born witch?"

"_No_," he said forcefully, shaking his head. "You of all people, no. Even if you had not studied the Wizarding world with your usual fervour I do not believe that anyone could ever accuse _you_ of being inadequate."

Hermione's eyebrows rose in shock but she refrained from commenting on the passion that had leaked into his voice. She knew that this was probably a sore spot for him, she hadn't forgotten the memory that Harry had shared with her about Severus, Lily Evans, and that horrible word, but she had to wonder why he seemed to still be making that same mistake. No, he hadn't called her a Mudblood and she didn't believe he ever would, but he was still lashing out at people and using their perceived weaknesses to hurt them.

"I didn't think so," she said after a moment. "If I did, you would not be here."

He nodded and looked down at her feet which he still held in his hands despite no longer massaging them. "I apologise."

"Accepted," Hermione said instantly and felt his hand tighten on her ankle. "It won't be easy for us, Severus, but nothing good ever is."

He sighed. "Perhaps it was a poor judgment to move in together so soon."

"Why?"

"We will fight, Hermione."

"Everyone fights, Severus. Not just couples but friends as well. Do you know how many times I've argued with Harry, not to even mention Ron?"

"This is different," he insisted. "I should not have said yes. I plead temporary insanity."

"Of course this is different," she said, wiggling her toes at him. He did not look up as she had hoped. "We're intimate, Severus. We have a son. We have one hell of a history. It's different but it's not impossible, either." She paused, trying to read his mostly hidden face. "Do you want to go back home?"

"Perhaps it would be for the best," he said quietly.

"That's not what I asked you," she said, sitting up completely and reaching forward. She moved his hair out of his face with a wet and soapy hand, leaving bubbles in his dark locks. He looked up at her touch and she found his eyes unguarded.

"Do you _want_ to go back home, Severus?" she repeated.

"No," he murmured, holding her gaze.

"Okay," she nodded, leaning back into a comfortable position now that she could see his face. "Is this why you've been so distant with me? You've been brooding over this the entire week leading up to moving in together haven't you?"

He shrugged casually, looking away from her and towards their son. The slight movement caused the cuff of his sleeve to brush against the arch of her foot still in his hands and she gasped, jerking her foot out of his grip with the instinct of someone with extremely ticklish feet. Severus, with his finely honed instincts, just barely managed to dodge her heel and avoid a broken nose but the violent movement that it required sent him tumbling from the toilet to land on his arse.

Severus gaped at her from his position on the floor, legs askew and arms holding his body up. Hermione stared back, horrified.

"Severus, I am _so_ sor—"

The wide eyed expression on his face melted into mirth and within seconds he had thrown his head back, laughing loudly. Hermione watched him in shock until Sebastian began to join in with his father; his high pitched giggles a direct contrast to Severus' deep, booming laugh.

"Your mother _is_ going to send me to an early grave," Severus said, gasping for breath as he looked at his son's smiling face.

"I'm so sorry, Severus," Hermione tried again, smiling slightly. "The bottom of my feet are very ticklish and—"

"It's okay, it's okay," he held up a hand, still chuckling. "You did not break my nose...this time."

"There may be other times," she admitted ruefully, smiling wider now. "I apologise in advance."

Severus shook his head and picked himself up off the floor. With a heavy sigh he sat down on the edge of her tub and scooped up some water in his hand. She watched as he let it dribble through his fingers and on to her exposed knee.

"There may be other times that I act like an arse," he said quietly, watching the droplets of water race down her elevated thigh and into the water.

"And there may be times when I over react," she told him with a light shrug. "I'm an emotional person. I tend to feel before I think."

His lips quirked slightly. "I snore."

"Oh, _that_ I know," Hermione chortled. "I'm terrible with picking up after myself."

"I noticed," he commented dryly. "Your bedroom floor resembles a graveyard of discarded clothing."

"I prefer to call it controlled chaos," she joked and watched him roll his eyes.

"I take exorbitantly long showers in the morning," he told her, dipping his hand into the water again. This time he traced the path of the water with his finger, making Hermione shiver.

"If you use up all of the hot water I will be forced to hurt you," she told him but her voice lacked any force because her eyes were glued to his fingertips tracing her knee.

"Perhaps you ought not to live in a Muggle building then," he reasoned, watching his hand as well. "You would not have to worry about running out of hot water in a magical home."

"I could never give up telly," she confessed, shifting slightly as a warm tingle began to spread throughout her abdomen.

"That contraption is almost as irritating as listening to squabbling children," he said, his voice deep and smooth. "Especially with all the women complaining about their hair."

"Commercials can be irritating," she agreed, her voice breathless. She watched his hand slip below the water, soaking the cuff of his white shirt.

His fingers found her hip and walked up her stomach before they began to trace the bottom of her ribcage. Hermione shuddered and, letting her feet drop into the warm water, reached for him. With one hand she repositioned his fingers so that they were cupping one wet breast while she snaked the other behind his neck. He did not resist as she pulled him closer and captured his lips with hers. His thumb swept over her nipple making her arch into his touch as his questing tongue muffled her quiet moan.

She wanted to pull Severus into the tub with her, his clothes be damned, but there was something about making love in front of her son that bothered her. Sure, he may not yet understand, but that didn't mean she wanted him to literally have front row seats.

Pulling back just enough to breath, she grinned at him. "If your son were not watching I'd take you in this tub."

"Would you, now?" he replied, smiling softly.

"I would," she nodded, tucking some of his hair behind his ear so that she could see his face. He met her gaze steadily, his eyes open and calm. She smiled wider.

"We don't have to have it all figured out, Severus," she murmured. "I'm willing to hash it out if you are."

He smiled softly and leaned in to place a chaste kiss against her lips.

"Yes."

*** I totally made this shit up. Do not do this at home. **


	14. Chapter 14

**Cliché **

**One of the things I love most about posting this fic are all the stories (oh, the **_**horror**_**) that the mothers share. You lot are enough to make me cross my legs and swear off sex for the rest of—**

**Okay, maybe not. **

_**4 months, 3 weeks:**_

Severus would never be handsome, she knew that perfectly well; his features were too sharp, too severe; his lips too prone to being pressed thin and his brows often marred in a frown. Hermione knew all this, had practically grown up knowing it, but lying in bed next to him as he slept soundly she couldn't deny that he made her blood rush hotly through her veins and her groin tighten in anticipation.

He was arresting. The contrast of his dark eyes and hair next to his pale skin drew the eye over and over again; the tall length of his body seemed made to be fit against hers, his hands were steady and gentle as they roamed her body and from his lips slipped naughty endearments that she never thought to hear from a man like him.

It was times like this, the early mornings before they fully woke, that she could admit to herself that she was falling in love with him, and probably a little too fast.

He had only lasted three weeks sleeping on the cot in Sebastian's nursery. It had been entertaining to walk into the room three or four times a night to find Severus already up and holding his son as he cried. He would then hand him off to Hermione and settle back down on the cot, his eyes open and glittering in the dark, as Hermione rocked and fed Sebastian from her chair.

Despite his apparent efforts to keep their living together chaste they had tumbled back into bed before the second week was out. Neither of them made the open decision to hold off on sex when he first moved in but it seemed that both of them acknowledged the need to at least _try_ to live together without the tension of sex hanging over them. It had sort of worked. Either way, Hermione wasn't complaining.

"Wake up, Severus," she whispered, trailing her fingers over his chest and watching goose bumps follow in her wake. She always knew the moment that he fully woke because his entire body tensed for a second before he seemed to realize where he was. Hermione wasn't sure if it was because he was not yet used to sleeping in her flat or if it was a habit ingrained in him from years as a double agent.

"Must you wake me early, woman?" he grumbled, opening one bleary eye at her. She beamed at him, fully alert. "Ugh, smiling, too."

"You make it sound as if smiling is a crime," she said, keeping her voice low for his benefit as she wiggled to his side, resting her chin on his ribs and slinging an arm over his stomach.

"This early? It is."

"It's nearly nine you ninny," she told him.

"It's what?" he sat up, slightly more alert. Dislodged from her place she sat up too and grinned as he eyed her fully dressed form. "How long have you been awake?"

"Couple hours," she shrugged. "I thought I'd let you sleep since it's a Saturday and you don't open till eleven."

"I'm okay," he said, slipping out of the bed and reaching for the familiar black robe. She caught a flash of bare arse before the silk material wrapped around him. "Where is he?"

"With your best friend," she grinned up at him.

"Bloody Potter," Severus grumbled. "I'm going to shower then, avoid him for as long as possible."

"You do that," she said, standing up and sliding up to him, slipping her hands into his loosely tied robe.

"Care to join me?" he asked, his voice a bit hoarse from sleep.

"And leave Harry to watch Sebastian without Ginny or Lavender to supervise _him_?" Hermione teased.

"Point," Severus agreed even as slid his hands up her arms and over the light cotton robes she wore. "What are you even doing in here, then? Our son could be in danger."

Hermione grinned and rose up on her toes to press a kiss to his lips, feeling the scratch of his unshaven chin. "I'm going to meet with Kingsley today so Harry is going to watch Sebastian while we're gone," she said, stepping back. "I was going to pick him up and grab lunch for us. Shall I meet you at your shop?"

"That would be agreeable," Severus said quietly, turning for the door. "I have a meeting with potential client at one but it shouldn't take long."

Hermione nodded and left Severus to his morning ablutions. Walking back into the sitting room, she found Harry sitting on the couch with Sebastian sitting up on his lap. The babe let out a happy cry, his feet kicking out and a wet smile spreading across his face at the sight of his mother. "How's my boy?" Hermione asked, plopping herself down next to Harry.

"Where's Snape?" Harry asked. "Still in bed?"

"He's having a shower if you must know," Hermione said, reaching out to her son and letting him grab hold of her finger. He waved it up and down, squealing as he did so. He had become a lot more vocal in the past few months which was both adorable and irritating, especially when it was late at night and he decided he'd rather babble on and on instead of sleep. She thanked god for Severus more than once because having him stay meant that there was one other person besides her to get up and walk with their son until he fell back asleep.

"Ugh, too much information," Harry shuddered.

"Then you ought to not ask questions you don't want the answers to," Hermione said, an echo of her old school self. Harry grinned and rolled his eyes.

"How was I supposed to know that—"

He was cut off by the abrupt tapping of an owl at the window. Hermione got up quickly to let it in, always afraid that one of the many Muggles around the area would see owls swooping in and out of her flat. She had finally let up on the wards allowing other owls in to her place roughly a month ago when the fervour had seemed to die down. She still got the occasional letter but since she rarely went out in public and no one had spied Sebastian yet, those had become few and far in between.

"It's from St. Mungo's," Hermione observed curiously, cracking the seal as Sebastian let out a little cry of happiness. Hermione looked up to see Severus enter the room. He was in his full teaching outfit, sans the outer robes. "That was fast," she refrained from commenting on his outfit, knowing that he wore it because Harry was around.

For reasons she couldn't quite get around yet, Severus had issues with showing himself as someone other than the nasty Potions professor to others; being affectionate with her was completely off the table when anyone but their son was around. She had accepted it, mostly.

"The wonders of magic," he drawled, arching an eyebrow

"Clever," she retorted, rolling her eyes and opening her letter. She read the first couple of lines before she let out a huff. "Huh. I've been summoned to a disciplinary hearing."

"What's wrong?" Severus asked, walking up beside her to lean on the arm of the couch nearest her and read over her shoulder. "Ah, it seems Healer Bray has found the rat."

"Really?" Harry looked up, letting go of Sebastian's hand. "Who?"

"No idea, yet," Hermione said. "It just says that my presence is required next month to deal with the issues surrounding my contract with the hospital."

"They wouldn't be summoning you if they didn't already have a good idea of who it was," Severus said.

"Huh," Harry said, looking thoughtful. "My bet is on that smiley bloke, the Roger fella, the one that Snape verbally eviscerated in front of his co-workers."

Hermione and Severus stared at Harry for a moment before the young wizard realized that no one was speaking and looked up. "What?" he asked defensively.

"I am merely astounded that your vocabulary as improved so much, Potter," Severus said, his tone cool. Hermione hid a giggle with a cough and swiftly changed the topic.

"You humiliated him in front of his peers?" she turned to Severus. "Why?"

"He refused to tell me anything about your condition," he responded with a shrug.

"Which means he was only doing his _job_," she reminded him. "If you should be angry at anyone, it should be me, no?"

"Are you offering to have an argument with me?" Severus asked, his tone expressing mild disbelief. "I assure you, I'll win this one too."

"You did _not_ win the last—" Hermione began, hotly.

"_Okay_!" Harry said, standing up with Sebastian. He held the babe out to his father, who grinned happily at the tall man and reached for him as he was transferred. "Isn't it time you got moving, Hermione? Do you really want to be late when you're begging for your job back?"

"She is not begging, Potter," Severus informed him coolly, turning his son in his arms so that the infant could face him. "Though the concept of strategic negotiation may be beyond you, I assure you that Hermione is more than capable of _convincing_ Mr. Shacklebolt to take her back as an employee."

"I thought you'd be against her going back to work," Harry said, ignoring Severus' insults. "You're actually supporting this?"

Severus looked a mite uncomfortable as his gaze darted quickly to Hermione's.

"Hermione is a grown woman and capable of making her own decisions, I am not her keeper, Potter," he said stiffly.

"Well, no, but you are her—," Harry broke off, suddenly looking awkward himself. "You're her—her—well, boyfriend just doesn't seem to suit you, does it?"

Severus arched an eyebrow at him and Hermione fought down another giggle at his dry, "Indeed. Your powers of deduction are astounding, Potter."

"Yeah, yeah," Harry grumbled. "And you're a git."

Hermione saw Severus' mouth twitch, almost as if he wanted to grin but had suppressed it as the unmistakable tapping of an owl on glass met their ears once more. Harry turned around and looked curiously at Morgana on her perch before turning back to Hermione with an inquiring look.

"Aren't you Miss Popularity today?" Harry remarked.

"Apparently," Hermione said, opening the window and freeing the bird of its burden, "though this is a welcome change from what it was before. It seems that even the Wizarding world has gotten tired of hearing what a w-h-o-r-e I am," she said.

"You're spelling swear words now?" Harry said, a sardonic grin playing about his lips.

"I don't want Severus to murder me either, Harry," she murmured distractedly, cracking the seal on the scroll.

"While the thought of murdering Potter certainly has its merits," Severus said, walking up behind Hermione to see what was making her frown, "why would I be harming you?"

"Hermione is concerned that you would hex me into little bits if my habit of swearing in front of Sebastian results in his first word being a curse," Harry admitted with a grin.

"They would not find your body, Potter," Severus promised, glaring at the younger wizard.

"You would kill the Boy Who Lived?" Harry grinned.

"You would no longer be the Boy Who Lived, I assure you," Severus said dryly. "Perhaps they could call you—"

"_That little shit!_" Hermione spat suddenly, reaching the end of the parchment and looking up at the stunned faces of Severus and Harry.

Harry made a strangled noise and pointed at her dramatically. "Hypocrite!" he accused.

"Do shut up, Potter," Severus muttered, transferring Sebastian's weight to his hip and holding out a hand to Hermione. She passed the parchment over and growled deep in her throat.

"It's from Healer Bray directly," Hermione said, waving her hand in the direction of the parchment. "You were right about it being Roger."

"And?" Harry demanded. "What's being done of it?"

"He has been suspended without pay," Severus read aloud, "until a review can be made by the Board of Governors of St. Mungo's Hospital and an interview conducted with Hermione as to her wishes to press charges."

"You can press charges?" Harry asked, shocked.

"Technically, yes. As a representative of the hospital, he broke that contract that I signed," Hermione said, frowning. "I don't know if I will though."

"Well," Harry mused, "at least Healer Bray is actually giving you information instead of just summoning you to a hearing."

Severus finished reading the parchment and rolled it back up, tossing it down on the end table before Sebastian could make a grab for it. "Perhaps we should discuss this later? You're about to be late."

"Oh shi—" Hermione bit her tongue and sent an apologetic grin towards Harry before she turned and bestowed a kiss upon Sebastian's black mop of curls. "Be good for Uncle Harry," she told her son and, before Severus could back away, she stood up on her toes and planted a kiss on his cheek as well. She grinned at the arched eyebrow he sent her way before spinning around and plucking her purse from the couch. With a wave and an 'I love you!' to the room in general, she disappeared into the Floo.

**Apologies for any and all mistakes. I'm really tired. I spent the day moving a friend out of her basement apartment and yelling, "No, lift from the bottom!" and "YOUR OTHER LEFT, WOMAN!" **


	15. Chapter 15

**Cliché**

**Apologies for the juggling act. I went back to fix up sleep induced errors and realized this chapter was 15 pages long. That's a wee bit much, don't you think? Two chapters for this week, then! Next week will continue as usual.**

_**5 months:**_

Hermione pressed her fingers to her temples and wondered, not for the first time, if returning to work was the brightest idea she'd ever had.

Papers were strewn across her desk and a large, wobbly pile of books on the floor next to her was slowly climbing higher than her head as she sat. She had spare pieces of parchment everywhere with little scribbles, reminders to do something, or look something up, most of them stuck between the pages of the books that she had piled next to her. On her other side, Sebastian slept peacefully in his travel carrier.

Surprisingly, it wasn't bringing Sebastian to work that stressed her out the most. He was surprisingly well behaved for the most part and when he did cry she merely had to erect a Silencing Charm around her desk area until she could calm him down. Most of her co-workers didn't mind anyway, since the majority of them were only in the office to file their paperwork; they hated that task with a vengeance so the prospect of entertaining a baby was far more enticing to them. Sebastian tolerated most of them though he didn't like to be held by any of them. Hermione discovered that having mostly been held by her, Severus, Harry or Lavender for the past five months, he had become accustomed to them only. The first time she handed him off to Kingsley Sebastian had burst into shrieks of outrage, startling the poor man, and reached desperately for his mother. A few more attempts with others had proved just as futile and so the Aurors resigned themselves to greeting him either from his carrier or the safety of his mother's arms. He didn't mind them then and would grace them with a gummy smile.

No, it wasn't Sebastian that was a bother. It was all the bloody reporters in the Atrium.

"Just what the heck is so interesting about a little baby?" Hermione asked herself bitterly, glaring at the paperwork on her desk as if it were the source of all her problems. It wasn't. Her desk always looked like a riot had occurred on it; she functioned best amongst carefully controlled chaos.

The words in front of her swam as her eyes protested staring for so long without blinking and Hermione marked her page, closing the book with a sigh.

"Nothing," she muttered to herself. "There is nothing terribly interesting about my baby."

And yet, the reporters would not leave her alone. She had been back at work for a grand total of three days and already she had to Floo in through Kingsley's office fireplace just to avoid the crush of people trying to talk to her or snap her picture in the Atrium. They all wanted to hear about Sebastian, to see him, to ask her about Severus and their future, whether or not they were in a relationship or if there was a wedding in sight. She had heard all of it and more yelled at her by the end of her first day when it had leaked out that Hermione was back at work. When she had tried to leave through the usual route, she had been bombarded and barely managed to ward Sebastian's carrier against the ash of the Floo before she had to make her escape.

"Nosy bastar—" Hermione let the word die on her lips and wrinkled her nose. That was a habit she really had to break, especially since she rode Harry about it.

With another sigh, Hermione packed up what she had accomplished and made copies of her preliminary notes for the case she was currently working on. She wouldn't be a field Auror again for quite some time, not until Sebastian was weaned and ready for a sitter, but they had plenty of paperwork to keep her busy in the mean time. If Harry had his way, however, she would never enter the field again. She grunted irritably at the thought and folded her separate reports into inter office memos that would probably not be received until the next morning before cleaning up a bit and picking up a sleeping Sebastian gently.

Feeling drained, Hermione made her way to Kingsley's office where she knew he would still be. He didn't have to wait for her, he had given her access to his office for the express use of his Floo, but the man always seemed to be working. She often wondered if it was because he felt the need, or if it was because it was a better alternative to whatever awaited him at home. She didn't even know if he was with someone, he wore no band on his hand, but that didn't necessarily mean anything—look at her and Severus.

"Hey Kings," Hermione said, pushing open his office door.

"Ah," he looked up from his parchment covered desk and smiled at her. "Hermione. Going home?"

"To Severus' shop first," she said, "but then home, yes."

"You look tired," he observed, setting his quill in an ink pot.

"I'm exhausted," she admitted. "But I expected that. It's going to be a while before I feel myself again, I think. Perhaps when Prince Charming here starts sleeping through the night," she said, lifting Sebastian's carrier a bit to indicate the sleeping babe.

Kingsley's eyes drifted down to the baby for a moment, nodding thoughtfully. "There's something I wanted to talk to you about."

"Uh oh," Hermione said, putting Sebastian down. "That sounds promising."

Kingsley grinned slightly. "Don't worry yourself. I'm just concerned about the stress that these reporters are putting on you. I asked the Minister to have them removed from the premises but they argued some bollocks about freedom of the press in the public domain," Kingsley snorted and shook his head. "I didn't realize the Ministry was public domain but Scrimgour doesn't want to piss them off too much so he won't give them the boot from the Atrium."

"I'm sorry," Hermione said. "I really am. I didn't think they'd care so much. I mean, it's not like I've got the next Boy-Who-Lived!"

"In a way, your little man is just as interesting to them," Kingsley said with a shrug. "Think about it, you in your own right are famous in our world not just for your role in the Second War but also for your intelligence and power." Hermione blushed slightly and shrugged. Part of her revelled in people acknowledging her merits, the other part of her was horribly embarrassed at the attention.

"Severus is also famous, or perhaps infamous," Kingsley continued. "Almost everyone has a specific idea about him in their minds and even if they think him a villain or a hero, most of them don't think he's capable of loving. I daresay he's cultivated that image over the years. To suddenly find out that he's not only fathered a child, but to have done so with _you_? Can't you see how this would fascinate them?"

Hermione shrugged. "Yes and no, but it's been _months_ Kingsley! Aren't they over it by now?"

"Are they over Harry?" he countered with a pointed look. It was a rhetorical question. No, they were not, and both of them knew it. "If it makes you feel any better, I firmly believe that they would be all over you even if you and Severus had gotten married first and had children second."

"I don't even know if marriage is in the cards for us Kings," Hermione admitted softly, dropping into the chair across from his desk.

Kingsley grinned wryly. "I'm not surprised, to be honest."

"You're not going to lecture me on that?" Hermione lifted a disbelieving eyebrow.

"You wouldn't believe how much you look like him when you do that," the older man chuckled and shook his head. "And no, I'm not going to. I wasn't raised in the Wizarding world either, you know."

Hermione's face betrayed her shock. "Actually, I didn't. I always just assumed you had."

"You're one of the few people who doesn't think about blood status, Hermione, even now. Most others, especially those who have been raised in our world, look for it even if it's an unconscious gesture." He shrugged lightly and leaned back in his chair, making it squeak a bit. "It gets harder to tell as we get older, as we assimilate, but when we're young...well, I'm sure you remember."

"Of course," Hermione nodded.

"I would..." Kingsley began and hesitated a bit, looking at her warily. "I don't want to offend, Hermione, but as someone who has known you for a long time I must say that I do hope that you and Severus marry one day. I'd like to see you...happy. Him, too."

Hermione smiled softly, not offended in the least. "And you were born to a generation that, like the Wizarding world, believed that a man ought to marry the woman he gets pregnant."

"There's that too," he agreed easily. "But unlike some other wizards, I don't think it makes you a horrible person to not want that."

Her smile spread to a full out grin. "I know, Kings, and I appreciate your being honest with me. I know you're just...doing that father figure thing."

"I suppose I am," he chuckled. "But we've gotten way off track. I wanted to suggest to you that you give the hounds their blood, an interview, to make them shut up."

Hermione's eyebrows rose. "Do you actually think that would work? Last time we tried that it blew up in our faces."

"Last time you tried...?"

"Harry, during our fourth year," Hermione explained. "He sat for an interview with the other Champions of the Triwizard Tournament and what ended up being printed was the exact opposite of what he had said. I don't want to bother if they're just going to twist my words around."

"Ah," Kingsley nodded. "That's why you get someone credible to do it and have a witness sit in on it so that they can back up your version of events."

Hermione pursed her lips in thought. "I don't know. It's something to consider, that's for sure."

"That's all I want," Kingsley said, standing up and walking around his desk. Hermione stood at the same time and picked up her son. "Just think about it and talk to Severus."

"He won't like it," she promised, walking over to the fireplace and scooping up a handful of powder.

"Probably not," Kingsley agreed. "But perhaps you can _talk_ him around," the other man wiggled his eyebrows at her and making her laugh just as the Floo activated. She managed to gasp out the address of Severus' shop but when she spilled out of the fireplace at _Moste Potente Potions_ she was still laughing and coughing on ash.

"Hermione?"

She looked up, still grinning and choking, to see George Weasley sitting on a stool in front of Severus' counter. The grin that had lingered on her face fell immediately and her stomach swooped with nerves. She hadn't seen George since before she got pregnant. He had claimed to be busy with the shop in the few times she had seen him after she and Ron had broken up but as the weeks turned into months she got the feeling that he was avoiding her.

"George," she said, aiming for neutral and hoping she pulled it off. "How are you?"

"I'm okay," he said, turning on the stool and smiling genuinely at her. Hermione's eyes darted to Severus for a moment but he merely looked curious as he watched the exchange. "Quite a few changes in the last while, eh?"

"Something like that," she said lightly, walking over to the counter with Sebastian. He was still asleep, despite his Floo trip. Severus conjured a low stool for her and she placed the carrier on it before turning to George.

"Wow, it's so...you're a mother, Hermione," he said softly, his eyes on Sebastian as Severus gently loosened the blanket that had bunched up around his sons face and neck.

"Yeah," Hermione agreed, her demeanour softening as she watched Severus' fingers linger on Sebastian's round cheeks. The baby sighed in his sleep and made sucking motions with his mouth.

"You should have brought him round the shop," George said softly, meeting her gaze evenly.

"I wasn't sure of my welcome, to be honest," Hermione said, squaring her shoulders slightly. "We barely spoke when I ended things with Ron and after...," she trailed off slightly and looked down at her son. Severus was now sitting stiffly and she knew he was uncomfortable with the conversation. "Well, I didn't know where I stood with the Weasley family and I wasn't keen on having another fight."

George nodded, his face serious. It was more common to see him solemn after Fred's death, even his relationship with Angelina hadn't brought back the George of their youth. The silly boy who was constantly pulling pranks had died with his twin.

"Well, I can't speak for the rest of the family," he said, "but I do not let ickle Ronniekins dictate who I do and do not associate with, even though the little wanker would like that very much." He grinned at Hermione's rolled eyes. "And if it means anything, Ron is the only one who has any real objections to your...relationship?" he ended uncertainly, his eyes darting between the two of them.

"If that is your idea of subtlety Mr. Weasley you need to work on it," Severus remarked coolly.

"George is about as subtle as a gun," Hermione remarked dryly, causing the younger wizard to chuckle. "And yes, Severus and I are together. I'm surprised your mum didn't already tell you that."

"Eh," he shrugged. "She told me to butt out and mind my own business."

Severus snorted. "Wise words."

"Not really," George grinned. "When have I ever listened to such pearls of wisdom? If I had, Fred and I wouldn't have come up with half the things we did in school."

"Extendible Ears," Hermione laughed. "Bringing down the secrets of the Order one meeting at a time."

"What?" Severus exclaimed, eyes darting between the two of them. "Tell me you're not serious."

"We're not serious," George intoned dutifully.

"Cheek, Mr. Weasley," Severus glared at him but there was little heat in the look.

"Are you going to take points from me, Professor?" George's grin was positively evil as he glanced at Hermione. "Or perhaps put Hermione in detention? Scrubbing..._cauldrons_?"

Severus gaped at George for a second before he picked up a notebook on his counter and swiftly smacked the younger man upside the head with it. Hermione burst into laughter as George jumped off his stool, laughing as well.

"Merlin's pants, Snape! That's abuse!" he laughed, standing far enough away that Severus would have to get up and come around the counter to whack him again.

The sound of their banter and antics woke Sebastian who took a quick look at his parents and the stranger before opening his mouth to let out a pitiful cry. Hermione scooped him out of his carrier and felt the wetness at his bottom.

"He needs a changing," she said, holding Sebastian to her chest. "I'll take him into the office."

She let herself into the room behind the counter, barely ten steps away, and could still hear the two men conversing.

"I should hex you," Severus muttered darkly. "I would never have approached Miss—Hermione—as a student."

"Oh, I know that," George said, accompanied by the sound of a stool scraping across stone. "I just like seeing that muscle in your jaw twitch."

"George, you have a death wish," Hermione called with a laugh.

"I'm not afraid of him," George called back. "He won't kill me when he stands to make a fortune off of me!"

"You underestimate the value I place on your business," Severus retorted. "We should, however, get back to that business."

"Too right," George agreed and Hermione smiled.

She made short work of Sebastian's nappy, once more thrilled about being a witch. Severus kept a supply of things for Sebastian in his office for moments like this when she was with him during lunch. Reaching down to the bottom drawer, she grabbed a changing mat and spread it out over the surface. Changing was made a million times easier as she Scourgified the majority of the mess off the linen and then Banished it back to her flat to be washed properly. Another flick of her wand and she had a warm, wet flannel to clean him up with which could also be Banished after it was used. Within minutes she had him wrapped up in a fresh diaper and walked over to the door to close it on the men talking so that she could feed him.

She settled into Severus' chair with Sebastian in her arms and pulled down her top to reveal a nursing bra. She was trying to get Sebastian used to the idea of taking a bottle but she had left those at her desk under wards and Stasis charms; besides, he was better with the breast, less fuss, and she was tired at the moment. The weariness that she had been carrying around for the last few days, compounded by the fact that she had a new baby to care for, seemed to knock her off her feet by the day's end.

"Hey 'Mione—" the door began opening and Hermione made an instinctive move to cover her mostly exposed breast before it abruptly stopped and Severus' back suddenly filled the gap between the door and the frame.

"Mr. Weasley, did it ever occur to you that she may not be totally decent?" Hermione could hear the sneer in his voice even if she could only see the back of his dark head. She grinned and shook her head slightly.

"What would she be prancing about starkers for?" George asked, genuinely confused.

"It's called breast feeding for a reason, George!" Hermione called, pitching her voice just enough to carry.

"Oh. _Oh!_"

"Yes," Severus remarked dryly. "Oh, indeed."

"Ah, well then," George said and Hermione could practically picture his blush. "Well, I just wanted to say that you should stop by if you have some time, Hermione. I'd really like it if you did, or—or I could stop by your place?"

"That would be nice, George," she said, smiling. He was babbling a bit, a nervous habit she could empathize with, especially when facing Severus. "How about we talk about it later though?"

"Ah, yeah. Sure. Sorry?"

"I'll let you know my decision by tomorrow evening, Mr. Weasley," Severus said, dismissing him.

Hermione heard George's voice again but it was farther away and she couldn't make it out. The bells above the shop door jangled merrily before Severus turned around to face her. His eyes were drawn down to her chest but there was no lust in his eyes.

"I can never seem to get accustomed to that sight," he said softly, moving into the office and pushing the door almost closed.

"No?" she smiled softly. "Why not?"

"I'm not sure myself," he said, walking around his desk and leaning against it so that his knee brushed her thigh. "Perhaps it's the simple domestic feel of it. I am not used to it."

"Yes, well, hopefully he'll learn to take a bottle soon and I won't have to whip them out all the time," she said, watching her son.

Severus was quite while he, too, watched Sebastian in his mother's arms. When the boy was finished Hermione adjusted her clothes and grabbed a small towel to throw over her shoulder.

"Here, let me," Severus said, taking it from her and tossing it over his left shoulder before lifting Sebastian out of her lap and proceeding to burp him. She watched him walk the length of his office, rubbing his sons back as the baby gummed his fist against his father's shoulder.

"So what is it that George needs you for?" she asked conversationally. "He made it sound like a big deal."

"It is, I suppose," Severus said, turning to look at her. "He wants to commission my services on a permanent basis to create several of the potions he uses in his products. It seems that he does not trust his employees to do it properly and he has spread himself thin trying to do everything himself."

"He has?" Hermione asked. She had very little knowledge about what was going on with Weasley Wizard Wheezes.

Severus nodded. "I am speculating, but I do believe that Mr. Weasley's lack of communication with you after the end of your...relationship," his mouth twisted at the words, "with his brother was a result of his trying to do everything that had once been done by two men rather than avoiding _you_ specifically."

Hermione raised her eyebrows, slightly surprised.

"You shouldn't be inclined to think the worst of the people that care about you," Severus said quietly.

Hermione's eyebrows, if possible, lifted even higher and she pinned Severus with a look that spoke volumes about the hypocrisy of that statement.

"Yes, yes," he rolled his eyes. "I know. I am arguably the worst person to advise you on friendships since I have so few of them."

"That's not what I was thinking at all, actually," she said, watching as Sebastian burped onto his father's towel covered shoulder. "I was thinking that it is quite hypocritical of you to tell me to have more faith in people when you do not."

"You and I are different," Severus said shortly, sitting down on the edge of his desk and wiping Sebastian's face.

"Are we?" Hermione countered, standing up to take their son so Severus could Banish the cloth.

Severus barely looked at her as she handed the baby back and he changed the subject.

"What would you like to do for dinner?" he asked, turning towards the office door.

"I don't know," she said, following him after he settled Sebastian in his carrier and headed out of the office to close up. "How do you feel about Muggle pizza?"

"As long as there is no fruit on it this time," he grumbled as he locked the door and set the wards. She watched him and wondered if she should bring up with Kingsley had mentioned to her in his office. He flicked his wand around the front area of the store, cleaning up a bit of the mess that customers had tracked in and she decided that there was no time for the present.

"Kingsley suggested something to me today and I would like your opinion on it," she said, leaning against the counter.

He turned and looked at her to show that he was listening as he continued casting cleaning charms.

"He thinks that I ought to give an interview in the hopes that the reporters will stop following me at work or staking out my flat," she bit her lip, watching him. She did not expect him to react favourably to this idea.

"It is your decision," he shrugged lightly. "If you think it would help matters, by all means."

"That's not an answer," she sighed irritably. Why couldn't he just give her his opinion? "I want to know how you feel about it as well since it would ultimately involve you, not to mention that they will probably want to take pictures of Sebastian."

"Absolutely not," he said with finality. "My son is not an attraction for those gum flapping, gossip mongrels."

"I agree," she said, spreading her hands out in front of her as he stood across the shop from her, looking defiant. "But they're going to get pictures of him eventually, Severus, unless you plan on never letting the boy outside?"

"He goes outside," he said and Hermione wondered if he was being argumentative on purpose.

"What are you going to do when we're walking through Diagon Alley and someone snaps a picture of him?" she asked. "Are you going to hex them for it? It's not illegal, you know. Why not do it on our terms?"

"Why are you in favour of this?" he countered. "I was under the impression you did not want him used to garner attraction."

"Severus," she sighed, closing her eyes briefly. "Don't. Don't start that argument. You know I don't want the attention from the papers any more than you do, less, actually. You're not the one being disparaged as a sexual deviant and unfit mother."

"Of course not," he retorted, eyes glinting with anger. "I'm just the old pervert sleeping with a woman young enough to be his daughter, getting her knocked up and not making an honest witch of her."

"Ugh," Hermione groaned, dropping her forehead to his counter. The light thud of her head was only slightly cushioned by some of the parchment he had there. "If the age difference bothers you that much, Severus, why did you come home with me in the first place?"

She lifted her head, holding down the parchment so it didn't stick, and glared at him.

"I am simply pointing out that you're not the only one who is being attacked," he said, avoiding her question completely.

Hermione heaved a sigh and turned to pick up Sebastian. "I don't know why I bother trying to talk to you. It's clearly a pointless endeavour."

"Where are you going?" he demanded, his voice raised slightly with alarm.

She turned and looked at him curiously. "Where do you think I'm going? Home. I'll see you there when you're done."

He didn't say anything else as she walked to the fireplace on the other side of the shop and Floo'd back to her flat.


	16. Chapter 16

**Cliché **

**Yes, I split Ch 14 into two, thus resulting in 15 because combined they were too long; I didn't realize this when I first posted it because I was severely sleep deprived when I did. No, you're not going crazy. No, I won't make a habit of doing it. Yes, I'm sorry if I confused you. Yes, I'm also a little bit entertained by the immediate and somewhat hysterical PMs I got.**

**There's NSFW in this chapter so unless you like getting caught reading smut in public...**

_**5 months, 1 week:**_

"Ooohhh...yes," Hermione moaned, slipping her arms underneath her pillow and dropping her head down on it.

"Is that so?" Severus smirked at her from the other side of the bed as he unbuttoned his shirt.

"Mmmhmm," Hermione mumbled, rubbing her face into the pillow and stretching out on her stomach. "You have no idea how glorious this feels."

"I thought you would be less tired with him sleeping through the night now," Severus said, slipping out of his shirt and draping it over a chair. She watched him lazily from the bed as he started in on his trousers.

"If he wasn't I'd probably have started offing people by now. Perhaps I should start with the reporters who have given up on the Atrium and have taken to stalking me whenever I step out of doors," she grumbled, her voice slightly muffled.

"They're still after you?" he asked, stepping out of his black slacks and hanging them with the shirt.

"Yes," she said, poking her head up a bit as she took him in standing there in nothing but a pair of black cotton pants. "Why don't they stalk you?"

"They tried," he said. "My wards jinx anyone who walks in my shop with a camera and a press pass on their person."

"Too bad I can't do that to the Ministry," she said, leaning up on her elbows. "Are you coming to bed, or what?" she demanded, watching him rifle through the pockets of the trousers he had just taken off.

He looked up and smirked at her. "I thought you were tired?"

"I found my second wind," she said, grinning and rolling over to her side so that she could face him. "Are you coming?"

"Is this where I make a crude comment? Something along the lines of 'not quite yet'?" he grinned, pulling back the duvet and sliding underneath it in a smooth motion. Hermione tossed her head back and laughed.

"It takes away from the crudeness when you use the word 'quite' in the sentence," she said, leaning forward to kiss his smirking lips, "but sure, whatever works for you Severus."

"How about just this?" he murmured, reaching up to cup her face and bring it closer for another kiss.

Hermione melted into him, her own hand working up his neck, over his sharp jaw line and into his hair. It was, admittedly, a bit greasy but she had quickly learned that this was through no fault of his own. In school Ron and Harry had assumed that Severus was simply dirty and afraid of a little soap while Hermione had never really given it much thought. Now she knew that he was, in fact, a bit of a neat freak and took great care in his hygiene. He simply happened to pick a profession that, when combined with crap genetics, meant that his skin was oilier than most.

They separated for breath and Hermione slid onto her back so that she was almost under him. "If I said you have to do all the work, would you object?" she asked, tucking his hair behind an ear.

"The things I do for you, witch," he muttered but there was a smile playing about his lips as he ducked his head to kiss down her neck.

He slowly divested her of her night shirt and knickers, kicking off his own pants at some point, and proceeded to 'do all the work'. When he wasn't drunk and horny, Severus was a slow and methodical lover. He kissed as much of her body as he could reach while purposely avoiding the one place she desperately wanted his mouth as she wriggled around. He exploited the fact that her thighs were extremely ticklish, letting his stubbly chin drag along the sensitive skin leading up to her apex and making her shriek. She flailed, her legs kicking out as she shot up to grab at his head.

"You're going to make me bald, woman," he growled at her from between her legs, pulling on the hand that had latched on to his hair.

"And you're going to make me knee you in the face by accident if you don't stop that!" she retorted, laughing.

"Stop? Stop what?" he smirked. "This?" he leaned forward and swiftly placed a kiss against her sex, slipping his tongue between her lips and making her gasp. Her legs, which had clamped down on his shoulders fell open with a speed that _should_ have made her blush—but didn't.

"Would you like me to stop, Hermione?" he asked, looking up at her with his dark eyes.

"No," she said softly, her gaze locked on his.

"Tell me," he murmured, teasing her gently with his fingers while he watched the sensations play across her face. "Tell me what you want, Hermione."

"I want you to kiss me again," she murmured, gasping as he complied. His lips found her clitoris and gently pulled, making her back arch.

"And?" he asked, his voice hoarse.

"Tongue," she managed to get out, leaning back on one hand as the other carded though his hair.

Again, he quickly obeyed, teasing her with his tongue and making her head fall back on her shoulders. She fought with instinct to raise her hips, seeking out more friction.

"Anything else?"

"Fingers," her whisper quickly morphed into a groan as he began pumping into her with his hand. "More, Severus. Please."

It was only after such moments, after the haze and the glow had faded, that Hermione remembered the wanton ways she responded to this man, the way she fell apart with the slightest urgings from him. She'd blush later as her mind recalled the way she'd breathed his name but not now. Now was for shelving things like pride and dignity in favour of pleasure at his hands.

"Se-Severus," she moaned. "Please."

"Please what?" he asked, sitting up.

"More," she demanded.

He smirked at her and grabbed her from behind the knees, tugging her sharply down the bed and closer to where he knelt. Leaning forward, he covered her body with his and felt her thighs cradle his hips as he guided himself inside her. She watched his eyes drift shut and caught his soft 'oh' of pleasure with her lips.

Their lovemaking was slow and sweet, as befitted the mood they both found themselves in. When Hermione reached her release she brought him with her, almost at the same moment, and she basked in the wave of pleasure that washed over both of them. He always pulled her tightly against him in that moment, grunting her name while he hid his face against her skin as if he didn't want her to see him come undone. It didn't matter to her, not when he pressed gentle kisses to whatever skin he could find as their hearts slowed to a normal pace. It didn't matter because, without fail, he would lie next to her afterwards, trailing his fingers over her skin, and watch her succumb to her exhaustion with an unguarded face. It didn't matter because in those moments between an orgasm and the bliss of sleep, she thought he just might love her, too.

**xXx**

The next morning was slow and lazy, as befitted a Saturday with nothing to do. Severus would open his shop at eleven or so and Hermione would take Sebastian to visit her mother and go grocery shopping at the local Tesco near her family home. It had become part of their routine; she and her mother would spend Saturday together doing the things that needed being done out of the microscopic view of the Wizarding world.

Pouring hot water into the teapot and setting it on the table near Severus, Hermione decided to broach the topic that she had been avoiding for almost a week.

She doled out porridge into two bowls and sweetened it with milk and honey, adding in some fruit for good measure and set one down in front of Severus who was trying to convince Sebastian to take a bottle. The baby was having none of it and it was only his father's arm wrapped firmly around his midsection that kept the babe from flailing his way off his father's lap.

"Thank you," he mumbled without looking at the bowl. "Sebastian, take the damn bottle."

Sebastian screwed up his face and yelled at his father, batting away the bottle at the same time. Severus growled lowly in his throat. "I've never had this much trouble from a child before."

"That's because your students feared you," Hermione said, walking around the back of his chair and plucking the bottle out of his hands. "And your son does not." She crouched in front of the two of them and reached out to tickle Sebastian's foot. He giggled and kicked out.

"You've got ticklish feet like, Mummy, don't you sweetie?" she smiled at him. She continued to tease her son, walking her fingers up his little legs and tickling him gently; he squealed and flapped his arms happily at her while Severus watched her silently. Without making a big fuss of it, Hermione slipped the bottle in her mouth and made it look as if she were drinking from it. She continued to tease and tickle her son as she did so but his attention slowly wandered from what she was doing with her free hand to what she was doing with the one that held the bottle.

When he reached out for it, both hands grasping, and let out a low whine in the back of his throat Severus chuckled. "You _cannot_ be serious," he muttered, watching as Hermione handed over the bottle with a smile. She helped guide it into her son's mouth, letting his little hands take over. Sebastian hadn't gotten the hang of holding it up properly but Severus quickly steadied him.

With a grin and a kiss on his foot, Hermione got up and made her way to her seat. Digging into her breakfast, she watched Severus feed himself with one hand and Sebastian with the other. Smiling indulgently, she fixed him a cup of tea since he couldn't do it himself.

"Thank you," he murmured again, taking a sip. Sebastian watched his father's movements carefully, chewing on the nipple of his bottle more than actually drinking from it.

"If you'd be so inclined to not bite my head off this time," Hermione said, putting down her mug of tea and looking over at Severus, "I'd like to talk to you about the possible merits of giving the press what they want."

He frowned at her. "Why do you care for my opinion, Hermione?"

"Because I value your opinion," she frowned back. "Doesn't mean I'll agree with it but I want it nonetheless."

"It's your decision," he said, shrugging and spooning up more porridge.

"No," she insisted. "It's _our_ decision, Severus. It concerns both of us, and _our _son. That's what people in a relationship, especially people who have a child together, do."

Severus was silent as Sebastian reached out for his father's spoon, making a sound that vaguely translated into 'I want that!'. Severus scooped up a tiny bit of porridge and held it up to Sebastian's lips for him to taste. She smiled as she watched Sebastian open his mouth, taste the food, and decided that no, he did not want it anymore. With a wet _splat_ the tiny morsel landed on his father's robes.

"Well don't ask for it next time," Severus told him quietly, putting down his spoon and picking up his wand to clean up the mess. When he placed his wand back down on the table next to his mug, he finally looked up at Hermione.

"It might satisfy them," he agreed, sounding as if it was hard for him to do so. "But the question is for how long? Do you want to set a precedent for giving them what they want? They will want more from you eventually."

"There is that possibility," she agreed, relieved that he was _finally_ talking to her. "I could use that to my advantage, though, no? Offer an exclusive interview to one paper and one only with the agreement that they would never ask for another."

"That would not stop others from seeking you out, however," he reminded her, picking up his mug. Sebastian reached out for this, apparently not satisfied with his bottle, but Severus guided his hand out of his son's reach. "Not until you're at least sixteen," he told the baby.

"Sixteen?" Hermione questioned. She had started drinking tea far before that.

"Caffeine stunts the growth," Severus supplied easily. "You have received offers for interviews before this idea, I'm assuming?"

"Yes," she nodded and reached over the table to help Sebastian guide the bottle back to his mouth. "The parchment alone could keep me in good supply of kindling for a year."

"And are you sure you're willing to confess all?" he asked, changing the topic. "Do you really want all of Wizarding Britain to know that you conceived after a drunken shag?"

"I never said I'd be willing to confess all," she said, shrugging lightly. "I figured that we would make it out to be something that, while not planned, was not quite as cliché as reality."

"Are you ashamed, then?" he asked, his eyes zeroed in on her. Trust him to ask the awkward questions.

"Somewhat," she admitted, breaking his gaze and looking at her the child in his lap. "I'm not ashamed of him, or you, but I do wish that it had come about differently."

"Telling the exact details of how he came about would be counterproductive to your goals here," Severus said softly. "What will you tell them, instead?"

"Why not something about us seeing each other privately?" she said, tracing her finger against the wooden table.

"And how long have we been in this imaginary relationship?" Severus asked, his tone dry and amused. She looked up to see a smirk on his face. "Weeks? Months? Are we to appear inexperienced with the concept of contraception or merely careless?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Either way, we're going to look careless, we already do. How about a couple of months? It makes us seem a little bit less like a pair of idiots and more like an honest slip up."

He nodded and looked down at his son who was leaning against his chest and sucking heartily at the bottle. "My biggest concern is the attention that will be thrown on to Sebastian and for how long. He is too young to understand it now, but what if this scrutiny continues, or picks up again when he is older? Potter experienced plenty of that kind of attention when he was a child and look how he turned out."

Hermione grinned. "Which is to say, he turned out fine," she teased. "I know what you're saying, and I agree, but what can we do Severus? They'll probably always wonder how we ended up here, and speculation about him will probably come and go; it will most likely pick up again when he enters Hogwarts and die down again afterwards."

"Why would the press care about his attending Hogwarts?" Severus asked. "Hundreds of children do every year."

"They'll want to know what House he ends up in," she said, amused. "And then they'll make up ridiculous assumptions about his character, and ours, depending on it."

"Lovely," he rolled his eyes. "I hadn't thought of that."

"I've given it too much thought," she admitted. "It's been driving me round the bend but the bottom line is that I'm willing to try it. If it would get them to stop hounding me, that would be lovely. As it is, I feel like I'm a giant inconvenience to the department when at least once a week they have to collar some idiot who tried to sneak up to get a picture of Sebastian and I. Not to mention it makes going to Diagon Alley impossible! I travel everywhere through Floo or Apparition, I don't remember the last time I _walked_ through the street and into your shop."

He sighed. "I despise the fact that they will be able to use those photographs of him whenever they see fit, for whatever rubbish they choose to spew."

"They're going to get them one way or another, Severus," she said again. "I'd really rather it be on our terms."

He was silent for a while and she hoped that the contemplative look on his face, combined with the fact that she had actually gotten a conversation out of him this time, meant that he was actually giving it thought. She was open to other ideas, but she was pretty certain that if there were other options besides 'ignore them' she would have thought of it by now.

Sighing heavily he finally said, "Fine, but I will be there with you."

She smirked. "As if I could, or would want to, stop you."

"I think a reward is in order after this," he groused, eyeing her with obvious intent.

"Is that how our relationship is going to work?" she laughed. "Am I to bribe you with sex?"

"I'm not opposed to it," he shrugged and his lips quirked.

"And what about when _you_ want something?" she asked, arching her eyebrows.

"Are you suggesting that sex is not enough incentive for you?" he asked. His voice was light but there was a hint of something there, something that might have been vulnerability. If he had been anyone other than Severus Snape she might have thought he was fishing for reassurance. Without a word, she got up and moved to stand behind him.

Threading her fingers through his hair, she combed it back off his face, dragging her nails lightly down his scalp the way she knew he liked. His head fell back slightly even as his grip on Sebastian increased. He watched her with dark, intense eyes, as she lowered her lips to his ear and whispered.

"It really depends, Severus," she tugged lightly on the end of his hair. "On whether or not you're willing to make my..._dreams_ come true."

"That depends on what you dream about," he murmured.

She grinned wolfishly and pressed a kiss against his neck. "Hmm...my favourite was the one where you fucked me against the wall next to my front door."

She heard him swallow and his breathing hitch.

"I'm holding your son, you do realize this, correct?" he asked, a trace of his usual sneer in his voice. She straightened and smiled triumphantly at him before placing a kiss on his upturned lips.

"I know," she laughed. "And with that, I'm off to owl Kingsley and take a shower. You don't mind watching Sebastian for a few, do you?"

He growled, she laughed.


	17. Chapter 17

**Cliché **

**This one is short because the next one is going to be long and it's going to be...well, I'll let you see.**

**Someone asked me to translate this fic into Russian! That's pretty awesome. I had a moment. Or several. **

_**5 months, 2 weeks:**_

**A Romance Born of Books: Hermione Granger on Her Son, His Father, and Her Life as a Mother.**

_In an exclusive interview with _The Daily Prophet_ reporter Darren Rivers, Hermione Granger, famous friend of Harry Potter, comes clean about the recent revelations about her private life and puts to rest some of the rumours that have flown around Britain since her pregnancy was discovered. I was able to meet Miss Granger, along with her infant son Sebastian Snape and the child's father, former Potions Professor and ex-Death Eater Severus Snape. _

_**DR**__: Miss Granger, it's a pleasure to actually meet you, I've heard plenty about you, especially in recent times. _

_**HG**__: Yes, I've heard plenty about myself as well Mr. Rivers. Nonetheless, it's a pleasure to meet you as well. _

_**DR**__: Why don't we get right in? Can you tell us how this relationship between you and Mr. Snape came about?_

_**HG**__: Simple, really. We've known each other for years but after the culmination of the war we went our separate ways. It wasn't until just over a year and a half ago that we ran into each other again and decided to see more of each other._

_**DR**__: See more of each other? What do you mean by that? Romantically?_

_**HG**__: Not at first, no. We have common interests, Severus and I, and our meetings tended to revolve around those._

_**DR**__: What are some of those common interests?_

_**HG [turns to smile at SS who stands behind her]:**__ Mostly the academics [laughs]. If you ask any of my friends they'll tell you that he's the only person I don't drive mental with my talk of research._

_**DR**__: That's what you do for the Ministry now, correct?_

_**HG**__: For the time being, yes. I am an Auror but once I discovered my pregnancy I was put on desk duty and became the bona fide bookworm for the department. Previously Aurors are required to do their own research when it is required with cases. Now they turn over the more in depth work to me while they maintain the field. _

_**DR**__: And is that something you plan to continue, or would you like to return to active duty?_

_**HG**__: I'm not sure to be honest. We haven't really talked about it much since I am under no obligation to do so for several more months. We'll cross that bridge when we get to it._

_**DR**__: You say 'we', does that mean that you and Mr. Snape are in a committed relationship?_

_**HG**__: We are, yes. _

_**DR**__: And is there a wedding on the horizon for the two of you?_

_**HG**__: That's another thing that we haven't really talked about. I understand that many people expect it of us but I'd rather get married because we both want to, not because it's expected of us._

_**DR**__: And how are you holding up under the scrutiny and scorn of the Wizarding world?_

_**HG**__: It's more than I anticipated, I admit. I understand that there is a severe cultural difference here and that as a Muggle-born my decisions might not be understood by the Wizarding world but they are still my decisions and this is still my life. I find myself disappointed in the press' lack of respect for boundaries, especially when my mother, a Muggle, was harassed shortly after Sebastian was born. _

_**DR**__: We are certainly known for our tenacity, Ms. Granger, I'll give you that. How has the reaction from the Wizarding world as a whole been?_

_**HG**__: Disgustingly inappropriate, Mr. Rivers. I understand that through my role in the war and being Harry's friend there is a certain image of me in the public's eye but that doesn't give anyone the right to berate me for my personal choices that have nothing to do with them._

_**DR**__: I see your point but surely you can also see the public concern? A lot of people frown on the age difference between you and Mr. Snape, there have even been suggestions that this relationship dates back to when you were in school. What do you have to say about that?_

_**HG**__: That's absolutely ridiculous. Severus is an honourable man and never, ever, would he have approached me or any student in such a manner. Our relationship in Hogwarts was that of teacher and student with all proper boundaries maintained. _

_**DR**__: Forgive me for saying so, but not everyone in the Wizarding world sees Mr. Snape as an honourable man. How do you feel about that?_

_**HG**__: I feel that it's unfair for people who do not know what they are talking about to cast their opinion around as if it matters but that's not the point of our interview today, is it Mr. Rivers?_

_**DR**__: Indeed it is not. Where do you see yourself and Mr. Snape in the future?_

_**HG**__: Raising our son, of course. I am no Seer Mr. Rivers, and it's a well known fact that I hold very little faith in Divination, so I cannot tell you what will become of Severus and I in the future. All I know is that so long as we're both alive, we will be active parents in our son's life. _

"Lavender, please stop reading it out loud," Hermione groaned, tucking her wand into her bun as she gave Sebastian a bath.

"I love how snooty you got with him when he brought up Snape's reputation," Lavender laughed from her perch atop the bathroom sink, paper in her hands. "I can just picture your face, all that righteous indignation."

"Oh, shut up," Hermione laughed, tickling Sebastian with a soapy flannel. He slapped the water with his hands from the safety of his bath seat, making the bath toys bobble on the water's surface. He was particularly entertained by the toy mermaids that dived under the water to grab at his toes and the miniature sea creatures that swam around him happily.

"What?" Lavender asked innocently. "It's cute when you get all defensive of your wizard, Hermione."

"I wasn't getting all defensive!"

"You so were," Lavender said, shaking out the paper behind Hermione. "_Severus is an honourable man_," she quoted. "That's getting defensive."

"It's simply the truth!" Hermione huffed, turning around to glare at her friend from her seat on the side of the bath. "Severus would rather have Crucio'd himself than have a relationship with a student and we all know it."******

"Well yes," Lavender said. "Besides, he hated us all, anyway."

"He didn't—okay, maybe," Hermione admitted as Sebastian splashed her, leaving dark wet spots on her Muggle jeans. "Look at the mess you're making, Sebastian!" she smiled indulgently at her son and his obvious joy at being in the water. His usually curly hair was plastered to his head in an imitation of his father's straight locks. She sighed inwardly, already sorry for the poor kid if his hair became anything like hers.

"He's not making a mess," Lavender said. "He's swimming. There's a difference. Isn't there, little man?"

"You are corrupting my son, Miss Brown," a voice spoke up from the doorway. They all looked up to see Severus standing there in his black robes. Sebastian let out a happy cry, flinging his hands up and spraying Hermione with water again.

"Please, that's Harry's job," Lavender grinned at Severus' glower but it lacked any heat and Hermione smiled to see her friend and her lover interacting so...cordially. "Besides, every boy needs to make a mess once in a while, right Sebastian?"

He grinned at her and began to babble as if telling her exactly how much he agreed. Hermione saw Severus smile gently before he excused himself and slipped down the hall towards their bedroom to change out of his daytime clothes.

"Merlin, lose the sappy look on your face," Lavender teased, eyeing Hermione. "I'm about to vomit in my mouth over here."

"Shut up," Hermione said again. "I'm just happy, that's all."

"Yeah," Lavender's voice became soft as she smiled at her friend. "You really are, aren't you?"

"I am. He... I like having him here," Hermione admitted. "We get on a lot better than I originally thought we would, and I love watching him with Sebastian." She sighed and shook her head. "I sound like a total sap but...every time I see him smile at his son, I want to kiss him."

Lavender's eyebrows rose and she grinned. "Kiss him eh? Not shag him rotten?"

"Well, there's that too," Hermione chuckled. "And I'm certainly not complaining about it."

Lavender's laughter rang through the small bathroom and Sebastian joined in, which only made her laugh harder. "Well, at least one of us is getting some," the blonde witch teased. "Can I live vicariously through you?"

"Not if it means telling you what we do in the bedroom," Hermione said, Summoning a towel to drape over her lap and picking up a wet and wiggling Sebastian.

"Oh, c'mon! Whatever happened to sharing is caring?" Lavender asked, watching Hermione wrap her son up in a big, fluffy blue towel.

"I am caring," Hermione grinned. "Because he'd Stun and _Obliviate _you by force if I told you."

"I could take him," Lavender promised with false bravado.

"I highly doubt that Miss Brown," Severus called, walking past the bathroom in a pair of Muggle jeans and a black t-shirt.

Lavender turned back towards Hermione with a gasp as Severus continued down the hall. "Did he hear all of that?" she asked, her mouth agape.

"Probably," Hermione laughed, standing up with Sebastian in her arms as he made 'grabby hands' at the toys that still swam in the water of the tub. "Now he knows what a pervert you are and that, secretly, you think about what he might be like in bed."

"Hey now," Lavender said, following Hermione out of the bathroom and down to the nursery. "I never said that I pictured you guys or anything but...well, now I kind of am," Lavender admitted with a grin. "You know what they say about men with long fingers?" She wiggled hers at Hermione.

"Lavender?" Hermione placed Sebastian on his changing table and turned to her friend.

"Yes?" the other witch asked sweetly.

"You want defensive?" Hermione smiled back, just as sweet. "Stop thinking about my wizard naked before I hex you."

Lavender threw her head back and laughed.

"How do you know I'm not picturing _you_ naked?"

**** Before I get any flack from people who enjoy these kinds of stories, please let me explain myself. I am a high school teacher so the idea of having a relationship with a student is not only gross but morally and professionally wrong to me. I think many people who write these stories are unfamiliar with just how large of an intellectual and emotional gap there is between your average teenager and their teacher. Even as a 'young teacher', I can't stand to socialize with my students, let alone have a relationship with one of them. Suffice to say, I'm not putting down anyone who writes or reads these stories, they're simply not my cuppa and I don't think they're realistic.**


	18. Chapter 18

**Cliché **

**This chapter is a stone and pitchfork free zone. Leave them at the door.**

_**6 months:**_

"'Mione?"

Hermione looked up, startled to see the last person she ever expected to randomly drop by her desk while she was chewing on the end of a Muggle ballpoint pen.

"What are you doing here, Ron?" she asked, trying to keep her voice neutral. The sight of those familiar blue eyes looking simultaneously guilty and hopeful was like a punch to the gut; how many times had he looked at her like that?

"I was hoping that you might agree to have lunch with me," he said softly, unable to keep eye contact. "I...I need to talk to you...about everything, you know."

"Is this about the fact that you screamed profanity at me in front of my son?" she said, watching his eyes dart to where Sebastian sat in a Muggle baby walker. He couldn't walk with it yet but he enjoyed it nonetheless. "Or is it about the fact that, instead of acting like the adult you're supposed to be, you pitched a fit at me because of something that has absolutely _nothing_ to do with you _or_ your life?"

"Er...both," Ron said, having the grace to look a bit ashamed.

"Give me one good reason to say yes," Hermione asked coolly, drawing out the syllables and creating the effect of someone who really didn't give a shit. A distant part of her brain perked up and pointed out that she was picking up mannerisms from Severus; based on the look that came over Ron's face, the same thought had occurred to him as well.

"Because you've been my best friend since we were eleven years old and managed to knock out a mountain troll together in the girl's toilets," Ron looked her square in the eye, his voice even, if quiet.

"Best friend's don't say the kind of things that you did," Hermione said, her tone still distant as her stomach flipped and knotted. "Even in anger.

"I know," he whispered. "I just...I lost my cool, 'Mione, I know. It's no excuse but I was just so...so angry. I...," he looked up as Joseph, one of the other Aurors, walked by her desk and nodded to them. "Listen, can we please just have lunch? Talk somewhere private? Please, Hermione?"

She looked up at him and his earnest face. She had known Ron for fourteen years; the first seven of those had been spent going through hell and back to come out on the other side still standing. His actions were, undoubtedly, inexcusable but there was too much history there to toss aside simply because he had wounded her with his words. It seemed to be in his nature to act first and think second, something that had been exemplified when he had walked out on her and Harry during their trek across the UK. It wasn't an excuse but it was a part of who he was; thankfully, his better qualities tended to outweigh the lesser ones.

"Fine," she said, sitting up and moving the papers around on her desk simply to have something to do with her hands. "I'm not promising anything, but I'll hear you out."

It simply came down to the fact that she wasn't willing to give up on one of her oldest friends.

"Thank you," Ron whispered, closing his eyes briefly, and Hermione could hear the sincerity in his voice. It went a long way to assuage her wounds and she felt a brief flicker of hope. "I'll come pick you up before your lunch break?"

"Do you not want me to meet you somewhere? You probably shouldn't be away from Azkaban for too long," Hermione said.

"I'm here for meetings all morning anyway," Ron said. "Jenkins has things under control."

"You left Jenkins in charge of all of Azkaban?" Hermione arched a disbelieving eyebrow. The man was worse than Neville in Potions with Severus breathing down his neck. Incompetence didn't even begin to cover it.

"He'll be fine," Ron assured her. "Magical Law Enforcement lent me a few guys for the week, anyway, so all will be fine. Don't try to change the subject, Hermione...can I pick you up for lunch?"

"Yes, Ron," she sighed. "You'll find me here."

"Perfect," he grinned at her, his face suddenly morphing into that boyish happiness of their youth. She could almost forget the ugly look that had taken over him in Severus' shop. "I'll see you then."

He left with a spring in his step and Hermione sighed again, turning to look at her son who was happily chewing on his toy keys and felt torn about the whole idea.

"Did I just make a mistake?" she asked her son quietly. He didn't pay her any mind; he was busy drooling on the blue key and currently unable to indulge her. She shook her head with a soft smile as she watched him make an impressively close sound to 'omnomnom'.

Sebastian had an assortment of Muggle and magical toys but Hermione tended to only bring Muggle ones to work because there was little chance of _those_ getting away from her and out of hand. His father's teddy bear was the only exception to the rule, it went with him everywhere.

Turning back to her desk, Hermione grabbed a sheet of lilac paper embossed with the Ministry logo at the top.

_Lavender,_

_Ron came by and asked me to lunch, he wants to talk. Could you take Sebastian for your lunch break? He's rather taken with mashed carrots right now so he shouldn't be a problem to feed, and if all else fails, he has a couple bottles. I'd owe you big time._

_Hermione, xxx_

Tapping the note with her wand it folded itself into a paper airplane and shot off her desk, winging its way down the hall towards the lifts. Sebastian let out a happy cry as it went by and lifted his hands up as if to catch it.

"Oh, Uncle Harry will make a Seeker out of you, yet," Hermione murmured, not completely thrilled with the idea considering how many times Harry got hurt.

It didn't take long for Lavender's purple memo to zoom past Hermione's head, startling her out of her reading, and land in front of her. With another tap of her wand, the message unfolded and Lavender's loopy writing appeared as if it was being written by an invisible hand.

_Hermione,_

_Of course I'll take the little monster off your hands. Are you sure about meeting Ron, though? _

_Lavender, xxx_

_Ps- I claim no responsibility if that carrot mush you claim he likes so much is replaced by ice cream. Just saying._

She snorted and picked up her quill to quickly pen back. She enjoyed these little messages between her and Lavender, sometimes it was what got her through the day. She wouldn't be surprised if the pair of them went through more memo pads than anyone else in their respective departments.

_Lavender,_

_I'm not sure but I'm going to do it, anyway._

_If you take my son anywhere near Fortescue's I will tell all and sundry what happened in the bathroom last time you were over. You revealed just who you'd like to see in all his naked glory, remember? Don't think I won't, woman._

_Hermione, xxx_

She had barely returned to her work before another little memo zipped by and landed in front of her. This one was bright purple, which meant it was urgent. She tapped her wand and laughed as the message materialized.

_You play dirty._

_Fine. Carrots it is, then._

Hermione snorted and chucked the note in the bin, which promptly ate it and caused Sebastian to make a sound of surprise. She checked the time and picked him up to give him a bottle, that way ensuring that he would probably pick the carrots for lunch. Using a clever charm she levitated the book she was reading in front of her while a Quick Quote's Quill took down her dictated notes so that she could feed Sebastian at the same time. She smiled as her son made clumsy attempts to hold up the bottle on his own and wondered how on earth Muggle women managed to raise children and have a career without magic.

She tried to concentrate on her work as the last few hours of the morning passed but by the time Lavender came by to pick Sebastian up for lunch, Hermione's nerves were wound tight over Ron's impending arrival.

"Are you sure about this?" Lavender asked again, picking up a smiling Sebastian who immediately grabbed fistfuls of her curling blonde hair.

"No," Hermione admitted. "But I want to hear him out, we've been friends for too long not to."

"That's true."

Hermione had just finished handing over a baby bag full of whatever Sebastian might need when Ron came into sight, walking down the hallway from the lifts. He awkwardly shoved his hands in his pockets as he reached them and eyed Lavender with a peculiar look as she stood there holding Sebastian. Hermione didn't know what to make of it but she didn't have a chance to think too hard about it because he was in a rush to have them off. She said her goodbyes, kissing Sebastian on the cheek before she left. He began to cry as she left and Hermione heard Lavender coo, "Mummy will be back, little man, don't worry," right before her Silencing Charm went up.

"He's not too happy to be with her, huh?" Ron observed as they walked towards the lifts.

"He's not used to being left alone with people other than Severus and I," Hermione said, pressing the lift button. "Or Harry, he loves Harry."

"Everyone loves Harry," Ron grinned at her as they stepped into the crowded elevator. She smiled back but didn't respond as she was getting rather intimately acquainted with the armpit of a man from Magical Sports and Regulation and didn't want to open her mouth.

"Will he calm down though?" Ron asked, as they left the lifts. Hermione hid her surprise at him continuing their conversation; she hadn't expected him to show so much interest in her son considering how much Ron hated his father.

"He will eventually," she said, walking through the atrium. "He loves Lavender but I probably should have had her distract him before I slipped away. It's harder when he sees you leaving."

"Ah, that makes sense," Ron agreed.

They walked on in an awkward silence as they wove through the people in the Atrium. Hermone hadn't been down to the lobby in a long time, she had forgotten how busy it got at lunch time. Looking around, she spotted a few reporters but none of them seemed to be paying attention. They were easily identified by their large, glittering press badges, and the fact that they carried cameras around their necks. The three that she spotted were talking to Ministry employees and Hermione figured that she was safe if she ducked her head and walked quickly.

Making it to the Floos without issue, Hermione followed Ron's direction as he called out 'The Leaky Cauldron' and stepped into the green flame. They appeared in the dingy pub and quickly got themselves a seat near the back.

"So, you walked to talk," Hermione said, fiddling with the small candle that sat on the table between them. Ron reached over and covered her hand with his.

"I'm sorry, Hermione," he said. "I know I don't deserve your forgiveness but I'm here to beg for it, anyway. I can't—can't lose you...not over this."

"What can I get for you?" a nasally voice announced the appearance of what might pass for a waitress by Leaky standards. Hermione pulled her hand out from under Ron's and smiled at the woman. She was old with wrinkly, mottled skin, and a large, dark birth mark on her chin. She did not smile back.

"Fish and chips for me, please," Hermione said. "And a glass of water with lemon?"

The woman grunted and rolled her eyes before turning to Ron. "And you?"

"The steak and kidney pie, if you would," he said. "Nothing to drink, thanks."

The witch shuffled off, hollered their order at the cook behind Tom's bar and disappeared into the back.

"Geez," Ron laughed awkwardly. "You'd think old Tom would hire some new help around here, no?"

"I think they're related, to be honest," Hermione said, eyeing the wizened old man wiping glasses behind the bar with a dirty rag. "Besides, when did looks decide whether someone should be employed or not?"

"What about temperament?" Ron countered, grinning easily. Hermione was not grinning. This banter felt forced and her leg jiggled under the table with nervousness.

"She works in the Leaky Cauldron, can you blame her?" she countered, eyeing the other patrons to avoid looking at Ron. The Floo flared off to her left, catching her attention, and she recognized a couple Ministry employees stepping through, one of them being the chap that she saw a reporter talking to.

An awkward silence descended upon them and Hermione fiddled with the hem of her Ministry standard robes. She started in surprise when the waitress they had been discussing slammed down her water in front of her.

"With lemon," she growled. Hermione smiled her thanks but eyed the drink, wondering if the hag had spit in it.

"Here," Ron said, interpreting her look properly and waving his wand over the glass. A short charm later and he grinned, pushing it towards her. "It's safe. No poison or bodily fluids."

"Thank you," she said, sipping the water. "But you didn't have to do that."

"I know," he said softly, slipping his wand up his sleeve and looking down. "I want to, though. I want to...to be there for you, 'Mione."

A very uneasy feeling settled in the pit of her stomach as she watched Ron; his words, while innocent, made her think that he was trying to speak between the lines.

"Being there for me doesn't mean acting the way you did," she said softly, watching him.

"I know that," he sighed and looked up at her. "I was just so...so angry. That's—that's what I wanted with you, Hermione. A family. Kids."

"Ron," she reached out to him, grabbing his hand and squeezing it. She felt the guilt wash over her as he covered her hand with his. "I know that you wanted kids, but you wanted a lot of kids. You wanted a big family like the one you grew up in, that's not something that I wanted."

"We could have compromised, 'Mione," he said and his voice took on a distinctly pleading note. "We could have had fewer children."

"No, Ron," she said, pulling her hand from between his. "I'm sorry, but children isn't the only reason why we split and you know it. I mean, we fought all the time! It was fine in school, gentle, easy bickering but it became more than that when we moved in together. We're too different."

"How?" he demanded softly. "How are we different 'Mione? We've been friends since we were kids! You said yourself that friendship is the basis for a good relationship."

"Yes, but that doesn't mean that every person you're friends with is someone you can have a relationship with, Ronald," Hermione said, slightly exasperated.

"I know that!" he bit out, getting frustrated himself. "I'm not saying that Hermione, I'm just saying that we have a good thing between us as friends. I know we went a bit pear shaped but we've grown since then, you know? We could be good again, if you gave us the chance."

Hermione stared at him, flabbergasted. "Ron, I...I'm sorry but I—"

"No, Hermione," he held a hand up. "I know what you're going to say, the same thing you said before. We fight too much, we have different goals, our wants are not reconcilable; I know, but just hear me out!" Ron ran his hands through his hair quickly before leaning forward in his seat as if eager. "I'd take care of your son. I would. He'd be like my own, Hermione. We could get married and have a few more kids, he'd never know the difference, 'Mione I swear. I would never talk about Snape or—"

"Are you insane?" Hermione nearly shouted. "You can't just pretend that he hasn't got a father, Ron!"

"You were going to!" he yelled back. "Mum told me!"

Hermione shook her head and briefly wondered how Molly had found out about that. Had Ginny told her? Or Harry?

"That doesn't matter now!" she exclaimed. "Severus is his father and everyone knows it! You can't just take that away from him. Besides, do you honestly think he would let you?"

"He wouldn't fight us, Hermione!" Ron countered. "Not if you asked him! The boy could have a better life with you and I, he'd have siblings and parents who love each other!"

"Ron, I don't—"

She didn't get to finish her sentence because at that moment Ron lunged forward, knocking the lit candle off the table with one hand and reaching for her with the other. Catching her off guard, he pulled her forward and planted a kiss squarely on her lips. Hermione froze, startled beyond reason, and felt Ron's lips moving over hers, spreading spit against her closed mouth as the sound of a shutter releasing reached her ears. She wrenched herself back and shoved at Ron's shoulders.

"Ron! How dare you?" she yelled.

"Kiss her again!" a voice called from somewhere in the pub.

Ron's eyes briefly flickered over towards it before centering on her again. His face split into a grin and he made to do just that when Hermione reared back and slapped him across the face.

The sound echoed throughout the pub, silent except for the obnoxious clicking of a camera shutter. Hermione roughly wiped her mouth on her sleeve and felt tears spring to her eyes as she realized that this was soon going to be splashed all over the papers.

"How _dare_ you?" she yelled again, shooting to her feet. Her hands shook as she watched him straighten, his jaw set and his eyes hard. "You know I'm with Severus, Ron! Why would you do this? Especially here?" She swept her arm in a gesture to encompass the entire pub, no longer caring that they were essentially putting on a show. She felt hot tears slip down her cheeks and as she watched him something seemed to slide into place in her brain.

"Did you arrange this?" she demanded suddenly, her eyes seeking out the reporter who was still snapping away. "Did you know that he would be here?" her voice rose to nearly a shriek.

"No!" Ron yelled. "I just want you to see reason, Hermione!"

"You are unbelievable," she spat, grabbing her purse and pushing her chair away roughly. It clattered and hit the ground. "I'm not doing this anymore," she pointed at him. "You stay away from me Ronald Weasley."

Without another word she stalked through the pub, keeping her head down and out of view of the reporter. She hurried through the back door that led to the small courtyard and the entrance to Diagon Alley. Rounding a few corners quickly, she found herself a small, isolated corner to cry in. Humiliation warred with anger and betrayal in her breast as she stood there, her arms wrapped around her chest.

If she was completely honest with herself, she wasn't surprised that Ron had tried that tactic with her. He had always been so...so _stubborn_; he just couldn't accept that she was with someone else and that she was happy. It was part of the reason why they broke up—they were both stubborn as mules. Then again, so was Severus. Did that mean that her relationship with him would never work? Hermione sniffed wetly and wiped her face with her hands, trying to clear away the evidence before she set off through the crowded streets.

She made it to the Ministry's entrance and quickly cast a few charms on her face to clean herself up before she made her way back upstairs. She didn't want to go back to work, but what else could she do? It was no reason to go home and cry, even though she wanted to, and she would merely drive herself mental going over it in her head if she went home now. She needed time to bury herself in her research and calm down. She needed to tend to her son to distract herself from the fact that one of her oldest friendships had just crashed and burned—publicly.

Hermione stepped off the lift on her floor and made her way down the hall towards her desk. She found Lavender sitting on the floor in front of Sebastian in his walker and spooning orange mush into his mouth. He kept pushing it back out and giggling when Lavender caught it with his spoon and told him he was a silly boy. There was probably more of it on his cheeks and his clothes than in his stomach but Hermione didn't really care at that moment. She watched without announcing her presence and felt her tears well up again. _What the heck is wrong with you?_ she chided herself. _Stop blubbering, right now._

Sucking in a deep breath, Hermione put on a happy face and walked into Sebastian's line of sight. Instantly, he greeted her with a big, messy smile and happy cries.

"You're back early!" Lavender exclaimed from her place on the floor behind Hermione's chair.

"Yeah," Hermione agreed. "It didn't go very well."

"Want to talk about it?" Lavender asked softly, spoon balanced in her hand. Hermione reached out to take it from her and settled down beside the other witch.

"Not right now. I'll tell you later, okay?" Hermione smiled weakly at her friend and turned her focus on her son. His obvious happiness at her arrival seemed to chase away some of the gloom and she basked in his smile.

**xXx**

By the time she felt that leaving work would be justified, Hermione was seething mad.

How dare he? How _dare_ he publicly humiliate her like that? Was he deaf, or dumb? Or both? How could he have taken her explanations of how they would never work as a couple, because experience had taught them that already, and interpreted it as 'I want you to kiss me'.

Was he _that_ thick? Or was it desperation?

She didn't know. All she knew was that if she ever saw Ron Weasley again, she wouldn't stop at smacking him. She'd hex his bollocks to his face for him, or Vanish them all together since he seemed to do his thinking with them instead of his brain.

Hermione quickly packed up Sebastian's things, shrinking them down and tucking them away, as soon as three in the afternoon rolled around. It was early for quitting, but she just couldn't stay anymore. She wasn't really getting any work done anyway, she had re-read the same page twice before she realized and then stared off into space, fantasizing about stringing Ron up by his unmentionables. In _public_. For once, burying herself in work didn't make her feel any better.

Picking up her son, Hermione made her way to Kingsley's office, afraid of going down to the Atrium to find more reporters around. She was sure rumours had made it around, news spread fast in the Wizarding world, and she didn't want to take the chance that there would be others around looking to catch a shot of her with Sebastian—or worse, with Ron. She only hoped that no one had mentioned it to Severus yet, not before she could tell him herself. She hadn't thought that it was something to talk about via owl letters and leaving work to make a social call seemed like a bad idea, especially when it could wait.

She knocked twice on Kingsley's door, just in case he was busy, and waited until she heard his voice beckoning her to come in. With Sebastian on her hip and his fist in his mouth, she walked into the office and stopped dead at the look on Kingsley's face.

"What's wrong?" she asked, instantly thinking that something had happened to someone she knew. "What happened?"

"This happened," Kingsley said softly, walking around his desk with a shiny magazine in his hand, the cover facing her.

She felt her heart stop in her chest at the sight of _Magical Mag: Special Edition_ with a full page, colour photo of Ron kissing her on the cover. Her stomach plummeted and she squeezed Sebastian so hard that he let out a little cry of discomfort before she realized what she was doing.

"Wh-what the heck is that?" she demanded, even though she knew _exactly_ what it was. "That's—that's not what it looks like, Kingsley!"

"Hermione, I know," he said softly, tossing the magazine on his desk, face down. "I know...but others...they don't."

"Oh god," Hermione choked, tears beginning to fall. "What does it say?"

"You don't want to—"

"Show me!" she demanded, stepping forward and holding her hand out.

With a sigh, Kingsley handed over the magazine, flipping it open for her as she still held Sebastian with one arm. She stared at the double spread article that included more pictures than anything. There were shots of her and Ron talking at the table, their words obviously heated, and a caption that read "The lovers have a public row" underneath. There was another shot of Hermione slapping Ron across the face but she didn't catch the caption on that because the words of the interviewed waitress were written in large, colourful letters and they grabbed hold of her eyes.

"_They were holding hands over the table when I came to take their order. I saw them smiling and laughing at something...They're obviously a couple."_

"Oh god," Hermione repeated, her voice soft as the words swam before her eyes. She clenched the magazine in her hand as Sebastian began to make gentle sounds of distress, obviously picking up on her mood. He looked around, confused, and reached out to touch her face with his small hand.

Startled at the feel of his sticky palm, she was brought back to reality hard and fast. Looking at her son, with his dark curly hair and eyes browner than hers ever were, she realized that she had to get to Severus.

Hermione dashed over to the fireplace and, shifting the magazine to her other hand, reached into the Floo pot for the powder. She had barely thrown it in before she was calling out 'Moste Potente Potions, Diagon Alley' and stepping into the flame. The world swirled around her for a heartbeat of time before all of a sudden she slammed into what felt like a brick wall. Green flame still surrounded her and Sebastian who, upon the jarring stop, began to cry. Confused, Hermione called out the address to her flat instead.

She stepped out into her sitting room, her mind whirling like the flame. Why would Severus' wards be up? He never closed that early unless—

Her heart picked up and she felt like she might vomit.

"Severus?" she called, turning and dashing from the room as quickly as she could with Sebastian in her arms. "Severus? Are you home? Severus?"

She heard noises coming from their bedroom and quickly made her way down the hall, finding the door ajar and pushing it fully open.

"Severus?" she asked, walking in to find him furiously throwing his clothing into what looked like a magically enlarged rucksack.

He looked up and the expression on his face froze her crazed heart once more. There was nothing but cold fury in his eyes. Eyes that darted down to the magazine still clutched in the hand that balanced Sebastian on her hip.

"Going to frame it, are we?" he sneered at her, his face the ugly mask of days when he would make Neville Longbottom cry.

"Severus, this is not true!" she said, walking forward slowly. "You have to believe me. Ron kissed me! Not the other way around!"

"You say that as if I give a shit," he growled, going back to his packing. He moved about the room swiftly, picking items up and throwing them into his bag. He knocked over several bottles of her perfume as he reached for his cologne but he didn't seem to care.

"Severus, please," she begged, taking another step. "Just let me explain! It's not—"

"I don't want to hear your explanations," he spat, turning away from her to rummage through the dresser. "I'll not be made a fool of."

Hermione reached out, laying her hand on his shoulder in an attempt to get through to him. He yanked away from her, spinning around and knocking her hand as he moved. She drew back and clutched a softly whimpering Sebastian to her chest. He was clearly upset by their voices, even though they weren't shouting. "Don't touch me!" Severus hissed. "Don't you _ever_ touch me!"

"Severus," she cried, tears flowing freely down her face, "please! Just let me explain! I can tell you everything tha—"

"A picture is worth a thousand words, as the Muggles would say," his lip curled in disgust as he looked down at her. "Look at how many pictures _you_ have, Hermione."

"Did you even look at the other picture?" she demanded, throwing the magazine down on the bed and opening it. "Did you see the one where I slapped him for trying to force a kiss on me, or were you too busy focusing on the first one?"

"Actually," his voice was almost conversational as he dropped a book that had been on the nightstand into his bag and shrunk it down, "I was rather riveted by the text to pay much attention to the other pictures. A lover's quarrel already, Hermione? Hmm, doesn't show much promise does it?" His words were scathing and it felt as if they slapped her in the face, each and every syllable.

"What do I have to do to prove to you that this isn't real?" she cried, gesturing to the magazine as her voice broke. "What do I have to do to prove that it's you I love?" Her words seemed to have absolutely no effect on him as he continued to stare at her. "What, Severus? Just fucking tell me and by God, I'll do it! _Just tell me!_" she shrieked.

Sebastian began to cry at that, his pitiful wails filling the room as they stared at each other. Her heart banged almost painfully against her chest as she waited for him to say something, _anything_. She searched his eyes for any sign that he might believe her but found only cold disinterest. Breaking eye contact first, Hermione turned her attention to the baby in her arms. She cuddled him close and murmured soothing words and sounds to him, apologising for upsetting him and rocking him back and forth. He continued to cry despite her attempts and she knew that if she were going to talk to Severus she would have to take Sebastian to the nursery. With one more look at the man in question, who was still watching them with narrowed eyes, she walked out of the bedroom and down the hall

"Shh, sweetheart. I'm sorry that I scared you. It's going to be okay," she cooed to him, not sure if she believed it herself. She didn't know why people always felt the need to lie to children about whether it was going to be okay or not, but she couldn't bring herself to tell him, even if he couldn't understand her, that it was all falling apart.

"Shhh, Sebastian," she murmured, rocking him back and forth in her arms as she paced.

She heard the tell tale sound of footsteps in the hall and for a heartbeat she thought that Severus might come into the nursery. She looked over her shoulder and saw him walk past, his dark robes billowing out behind him much like they had always done at Hogwarts, only the effect wasn't the same in her small hallway. He didn't stop, and he didn't look at her, as he continued down the hall towards the kitchen and sitting room. The sound of the Floo fire activating, the rushing, crackling sound, reached her ears before the inevitable _whoosh_ of his departure. She hadn't heard his destination. He must have whispered it.

He didn't want her to know.

Hermione stopped her pacing and slowly, as if her feet were made of led, walked back to the bedroom with Sebastian. The door was wide open and even though she knew he wasn't in there, she still looked for evidence of him. Her eyes swept through the entire room, just to be sure. There was nothing left except her own belongings strewn about and carelessly tossed aside.

Her eyes blurred and her breathing hitched as she crawled into bed, lying in the center of the mattress, and curled around her son.

He was gone.

**Remember what I said about the stones and pitchforks? Remember? C'mon guys, I was always lousy at running...**

**Also, I'm reading a story called "****Post Tenebras, Lux" by Loten. I'm only on chapter 5 but so far it's good! Check it out!**


	19. Chapter 19

**Cliché **

**Happy Queen Victoria Day to all my fellow Canadians! Hope you had wonderful weather for the May 2-4.**

**Just so you know, this takes place immediately after the last chapter.**

_**6 Months (pt 2):**_

"_Professor?"_

_The man sitting at the bar stiffened and turned to look at her, no small amount of shock and apprehension on his face. She was startled to be able to read that much off his expression considering that this man had always been reserved and seemingly incapable of any emotion other than contempt and rage. _

"_Miss Granger," he intoned. His voice was exactly as she remembered it; deep and silky smooth. "I would ask what you are doing in such an establishment, but I am not sure I want to know."_

_Her eyes darted down to the pint cradled between his palms on the bar top and raised her hand to the bartender, pointing at it and then herself. She climbed onto the rather tall stool next to him and propped her elbows up on the drink stained wood._

"_I should ask what _you _are doing here," she told him, turning to face the man and crossing her knees. The skirt she wore rode up slightly with the action and she pulled it gently back down. Snape, to his credit, did not look. "Out of the two of us, I'm the more likely, no?"_

"_Your memory is curiously short, Miss Granger," he said flatly, taking a sip of his beer before he continued. "My father frequented such establishments quite often, as was his wont. I was under the impression that you were aware of my...status."_

"_Well yes," she agreed, thanking the bartender with a nod as he placed a foaming glass in front of her. Why he bothered with the coaster, she didn't know, it wasn't like the wood of the bar in front of them was polished or maintained. "But I don't make a habit of looking at someone and classifying them by their status, as you put it. My memories of you contain an alarming amount of traditional robes; I wouldn't think you'd know how to dress like...one of my people."_

_She made a rather obvious show of eyeing him up and down with a grin plastered on her face. She knew that she was already a little tipsy, it was what gave her the guts to look at Snape like he was a piece of meat, but she didn't particularly care—another side effect of the booze._

_And he _did_ look good after all. Muggle clothes suited him nicely, hugging his lanky frame much better than the robes ever did. Either someone had helped him with this, or he had been doing it for a while; his black trousers were casual but snug enough to showcase his narrow hips and long, lean legs. His shirt, also black, was clearly tailored to his frame, whether by magic or Muggle means, and it drew attention to the broadness of his shoulders._

"_Are you quite done, Miss Granger?" his voice was dry with amusement and when Hermione looked up she would have swore she saw a smile flirting about his mouth. Perhaps he had had enough to make him bold as well? It was an interesting thought._

"_Almost," she grinned and held out her hands. "You're only missing a few key touches. Arms, give'em."_

"_Excuse me?" he arched an eyebrow at her but she was not deterred. She had not seen this man in years; time made it easy to forget how intimidating he could be. It helped that she was an adult now, too._

"_Your arms, give them over," she repeated, motioning with her fingers._

_Slowly, watching her warily, he held out his arms out and Hermione stifled a snicker because he looked like he was waiting to be arrested. She swiftly unbuttoned the cuff on his left sleeve and began rolling it up when he pulled away._

"_What are you doing, Miss Granger?" he hissed, his eyes darting around suspiciously while his hand went to his forearm. _

_The action, familiar and yet not, triggered her memory as to what was under that shirt._

"_Oh!" she exclaimed. "I forgot. Sorry, Professor."_

"_How could you possibly forget, woman?" he snapped, trying to button his cuff with one hand and failing._

"_Easily," she replied, "it's not something that I think about, much like blood status. Except when I see Malfoy, I can't help but remember then. Here, let me," she reached out and grabbed his arm but instead of buttoning it, she continued to roll it up._

"_Why are you doing this?" he hissed._

"_No one here knows what it is, Professor," she reasoned, deftly rolling his sleeve up to his mid-forearm and then pushing it the rest of the way to his elbow to give him that semi-casual, after business hours look. She pulled the other arm over and repeated the process while he watched, his arm resting against his knees and his Dark Mark showing in the dim lighting. _

"_And may I ask why this must be done?" he murmured eventually, watching her fingers tuck the right sleeve up. "Or am I simply expected to follow orders?"_

"_Ah, wouldn't that be nice?" she teased. "A man who just did what he was told and didn't ask questions."_

_He arched an eyebrow at her and she laughed, leaning back slightly to appraise him. She tapped her fingers over her lips and thought for a minute. There was something missing..._

"_Oh!" she grinned and reached forward, unbuttoning the top two buttons on his dress shirt. "I'm surprised you're allowing me to take such liberties, Professor."_

"_I am no longer your Professor and I have clearly had far too much to drink," he groused, his dark eyes watching her as she opened the collar of his shirt to show off the dip of his collar bone. _

"_Does this mean I get to call you Severus, now?" she grinned at him, slipping a bangle off her wrist. It was a large, chunky, green plastic bracelet and he eyed it suspiciously._

"_What do you plan to do with that?" he asked. "And I suppose if I must suffer your company tonight it would be best if you didn't refer to me as your teacher."_

"_Why's that?" she leaned in, grinning as she slipped her hand up the side of her skirt and retrieved her wand from the holder against her thigh. "Worried what people might think?"_

_His eyes widened in shock as she scooted even closer, bringing their bodies into almost intimate territory. It would certainly look that way from an observer's standpoint, which was exactly what she wanted. She didn't need someone witnessing what she was about to do._

"_What are you doing, Miss Granger?" he asked, making to move away._

"_Stay right where you are or you're going to blow the Secrecy Act, Severus," she said, clamping one hand onto his knee. He immediately shifted forward and twisted his body slightly to block her hands, which were resting on his knees, from the other patrons of the bar._

"_I repeat, what are you _doing_?" he hissed._

"_Making you a leather cuff," she grinned at him and tapped the plastic bracelet with her wand, picturing in her mind what she wanted. It was difficult to transfigure something that was either alive into something dead, or the other way around. Leather has the memory of having once been living flesh, something that plastic does not, so the plastic resists the transformation unless it is done by a competent witch. Hermione may have been a bit into the sauce but she was still more than competent. _

_She felt the magic pass over the object and it change in her hands. Slipping her wand back into the holder, she leaned back and held it up with triumph. _

"_See?" she exclaimed happily. "Wrist, give it."_

_He held out his right hand, his expression clearly amused. "This is what you risked arrest for?"_

"_Pah," Hermione scoffed, buckling the leather into place. The dark brown set off his skin tone nicely, she observed. "Where's your sense of adventure, Severus?"_

"_I used it all up," he retorted dryly. _

"_Well, aren't you lucky I've still got some left?" she teased, grinning widely. She picked up her pint and took a sip, eyeing him once more._

"_Do I pass the test now?" he asked, grabbing his own pint._

"_More than a pass," she smirked. "You just set the standard for every man in this place."_

_Suddenly, as if a switch had been flicked inside of him, his face closed off and he turned away from her. "Do not be foolish, Miss Granger."_

"_Who said anything about being foolish?" she asked, startled by his sudden change in demeanour. He had been open and almost fun for a moment there. "Hey," she poked him in the ribs and he turned to glare at her. "Don't give me that face. I'm not lying to you, you look good."_

"_Miss Granger," he growled, "I insist you desist."_

"_No, I won't. That woman over there is checking you out, you know. In fact, she has been for quite some time," Hermione said, nodding towards a woman at the other end of the bar on his other side. Severus' head turned and caught the woman's eye as she leaned against the bar, waiting for the bartender and holding a ten pound note in her hand. She grinned and winked at him, her bright red lips turned up._

_Severus whipped his head back around and focused on his beer as if he hadn't seen the overt invitation. Hermione grinned slightly as a light flush crept up his neck and into his cheeks. _

"_Going to go say hi, or what?" she asked, breaking the silence. _

"_No," he snapped. "I'm not interested."_

"_Good," she said, hopping off the stool. She tucked her purse under one arm, grabbed her pint and his hand. "You can come find a table with me then."_

"_Miss Granger—"_

"_Hermione," she said without turning around to look at him. She spotted a table at the back and started dragging him towards it, weaving between people standing around, a couple of them bopping awkwardly to the music._

"_Fine, Hermione," he growled. "I do not want to spend my evening with you."_

"_No?" she asked, slipping into a small horse shoe shaped booth with a tiny round table in the middle of it. "Then why aren't you leaving?"_

"_Because you dragged me over here," he said, standing at the table's edge and looking down his nose at her._

_She shrugged casually. "And I'm so much stronger than you," she snorted. "Right. Besides, I'm not dragging you anymore am I?"_

_He glared at her and turned around to leave but he had only taken a few steps when her voice called out to him again._

"_Severus, I'd love it if you would stay," she confessed. "Do you think you could humour me for a bit?"_

_He sighed, making it sound as if it were the most difficult thing that had ever been asked of him, but he sat down and raised his hand to flag down a waitress for another drink. Hermione grinned in triumph—_

She woke with a start, confused and unsure about what was going on or where she was. The room was still semi-dark and her eyes adjusted quickly enough to make out her own bedroom with its usual clutter and mess. Her eyes lit on the upturned perfume bottles on her dresser and the hastily open drawers of her tallboy and she remembered exactly why her eyes felt crusty and swollen.

With a soft sigh, she looked down to the bed where Sebastian lay on his back, his head turned towards her and his little chest rising softly. Gently, she ran her fingers through his black curls and down the side of his face, tracing the plump cheeks that spoke of how young he was. His dark eyelashes contrasted beautifully with his pale skin and rosy lips; _He's going to be a heart breaker_, she thought, smiling softly.

Carefully, she scooped him up in her arms and carried him down the hall to the nursery. She placed him in his crib gently, so as not to wake him, before setting the charms that would alert her if he woke before she returned. She needed a shower and a really strong cup of tea if she was going to face this day; the rest of the Wizarding world would wake up to images of Ron Weasley kissing her and she would, no doubt, get even more attention than before.

She tried valiantly not to think about everything as she stripped bare in the bathroom and turned on her charmed bath but it was hard. She couldn't help but chastise herself over it all; how could she have been so stupid? Why would she go with Ron to a very _public_ place when she had _just_ gotten the reporters to leave her alone? She hadn't been thinking—that much was clear. Had she been that desperate to mend bridges with Ron that she took leave of her common sense?

The great thing about having a shower was that she could delude herself into thinking that she wasn't crying, it was just water.

Thankfully, Sebastian continued to sleep through the rest of her morning routine. She dressed in what her mother called 'comfort clothing', a loose pair of Muggle sweats, a tank top and an overly large sweater that had once belonged to her father, and sat down at the kitchen table to pen a note to Kingsley.

_Kingsley,_

_Given the circumstances of what happened yesterday I have decided to change the time of when I arrive in the office. I'll be coming in a couple of hours later than normal, but don't worry, I will stay to make up the time. I would like to try to avoid the reporters without having to constantly use your office. I will be erecting owl wards around my flat again, Floo me if you have need of anything. _

_Hermione, xx_

"Hey girl," Hermione called out softly, rolling up the small note and fishing around the table drawer for a piece of string. Morgana heard her and flew softly into the kitchen to land on the chair adjacent to Hermione. "Take this to Kingsley at the office please," she told the owl, tying the missive to her outstretched leg. "Thank you, beautiful."

Hermione opened the window for Morgana to leave through and then set about making tea for herself, and perhaps some toast. She filled the kettle and put it on the hob, poking under it to ignite a magical flame before she turned around to grab her tea pot and mug. As she reached into the drying rack for the familiar maroon piece of porcelain she spied its larger companion nestled neatly beside it. Why the sight of two mugs sitting side by side would bring tears to her eyes, Hermione wasn't quite sure. Or she was, but she was merely pretending.

Either way, she quickly snatched her mug out of the rack and ignored the memory of how happy Severus had been to find such a large mug in her cupboards, one that would accommodate his significantly larger palms.

How could he have simply walked out on her like that? She stared at the magical blue flame under her kettle as if it would give her the answers she sought. Why would he believe the absolute worst of her? Why wouldn't he give her a chance to explain? Did he really not know her at all, even after the time they had spent living together?

With furious jabs of her wand, Hermione forced the water to boil faster as she studiously pushed away all thoughts of the previous morning and the languid kiss she had received whilst performing this same task. The Muggle kettle started to whistle and Hermione yanked it off the stove to pour the boiling water into her tea pot.

The sound of the Floo activated as she poured and instantly her stomach clenched in a mixture of hope and dread.

"Hermione?" a voice called out softly, as if afraid to wake the occupants of the house.

She buried the crushing disappointment as she softly called back. "In here, Harry."

He appeared in the doorway to the kitchen, his face a mixture of confusion and sadness. Without hesitating, he walked right up to her and wrapped his arms around her stiff frame. She hesitated for a heartbeat before leaning into him slightly, her arms like dead weights at her sides. He still smelt like the same old Harry; of soap, leather and _boy_. He didn't smell anything like Sever—

With a hiccup, Hermione began to cry softly against her friend, her hands sliding up his back of their own volition to cling tightly at his cotton tee. He pulled her closer, rocking their bodies slightly from side to side.

"Oh, Hermione," he murmured softly against her wild, half dried hair. "What happened?"

"Y-You don't smell like Se-Severus," she blubbered incoherently, speaking the first thing that came to mind.

"No, I don't imagine I would," Harry retorted, as if what she said was a perfectly rational response to his line of questioning. "He's not here is he?"

Slowly, she shook her head, aware that her tears and snot were rubbing against the shoulder of his shirt but not really caring. "I don't understand," she cried. "He didn't even stop to let me explain."

"Ron kissed you didn't he?" Harry asked.

"Uh huh," she mumbled, feeling Harry's hands sweep up and down her back in a soothing pattern. She sniffed wetly and continued. "He wanted to have lunch with me, to talk about what happened in Severus' shop."

"When you two argued?" Harry asked.

"I was stupid, Harry," she moaned by way of answer. "I should never have gone with him to the Leaky, of all places! The Leaky!"

"What happened there?"

She hiccupped and pulled back. "He kept going on and on about how we could give a relationship another go and it would work if we tried," she waved a hand around as if dismissing Ron's argument. "I told him, nicely, that he was barking up the wrong tree, it didn't work then and it certainly wouldn't work now. He didn't listen to me, _of course_," she spat. "Instead, he leaned over the table and planted one on me. I was so shocked at first Harry, I didn't move and then he...ugh," she broke off and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand as if the evidence of his kiss was still there. "Then someone yelled 'kiss her again' and he tried, so I smacked him."

Harry sighed despondently and shook his head as she sniffed again and used the sleeves of her father's sweater to wipe the tears from her face. She eyed his wet shoulder with distaste. "Sorry 'bout that," she mumbled.

"This?" Harry looked and it and shrugged. "Easily taken care of," he pulled his wand out of his back pocket and waved it over the mess. "There."

"Do you want tea?" she asked softly.

"Sure," he said, turning to the table and pulling out a chair.

Hermione reached for the cupboard, pulling out a clean mug that was not the one sitting in the dish rack, and placed it beside her own. She picked up the teapot and began pouring only to find that it was not tea that came out of the spout, but merely hot water. She had forgotten to add the tea leaves.

For reasons she didn't understand at the moment, this was the last straw for her.

With both hands on the pot, she turned and threw it into the sink with a loud crash. The teapot shattered into a hundred pieces, the momentum of its fall splashing hot water up and over her counters but she was too busy reaching into the dish wrack to notice or care. Her hand closed on the larger mug and she turned to hurtle it against the far wall, taking sick pleasure in the sound as it practically exploded with the force of her throw. She stood there, looking at the fallen pieces of ceramic, and half thought about fixing it so that she could throw it again.

"Do you feel better now?" Harry asked mildly, his tone only serving to flame her anger.

"He just walked out!" she spat, her voice dripping venom. "He didn't care enough to fucking listen to one word I had to say! He just assumed the worst of me and packed his bags! He's just as bad as the rest of _them_, he clearly believes I'm a whore, too."

"I'm not sure that's what he thinks, Hermione," Harry said gently. "I think he's probably rather hurt."

"_He's_ hurt?" she laughed but the sound was bitter and painful. "_I'm_ the one who not only just had an explosively public end to a lifelong friendship but also had the man that I love walk out on me because he can't be bothered to look past his own pride!"

"You love him?" Harry asked, mild surprise colouring his voice.

"Yes!" she cried, her voice breaking on a sob. She leaned against the counter and slid down it with a heavy thump. With her knees pulled up in front of her, she dropped her arms on them, followed by her head.

Harry got off his chair and slowly joined her, ignoring how some of that now cold water from the teapot had ended up on the floor and was soaking into his jeans. "Did you tell him that you love him?" he asked softly, watching the curly head pillowed on her arms.

"Yes," her voice was muffled but clearly distraught. "And he still left."

"Maybe he just needs time," Harry said, though he didn't sound as if he believed it.

"He packed all of his stuff, Harry," she whispered, lifting her head and looking for all the world as if it was the hardest thing she had ever done. "He said he wouldn't be made a fool of and he left."

Harry clenched his jaw and pulled her into his arms again. She leaned against him and cried. "I don't understand," she mumbled between hiccupping breaths. "I just don't understand."

"I don't think that he knows how to deal with these kinds of things," Harry said softly, brushing her curly hair back from her face. "And...well, I don't think it's very easy for him to trust. It's not like he has an abundance of friends, is it?"

"No," she whispered. "But I thought that, maybe, he was starting to trust me."

"I think that's why he reacted the way he did," Harry said. "I imagine that this was...a betrayal of the worst sort. It probably brought back a lot of memories, too."

"Memories?" she asked stupidly, not understanding.

"It wouldn't be the first time he'd been passed up for another wizard, would it?" Harry murmured softly, almost to himself. "My mum gutted him once and, to my knowledge, not that I'm an expert on his personal life, he hasn't tried with anyone since."

"I had forgotten about that," Hermione murmured softly, her tears slowing down.

"Not that it excuses his behaviour," Harry continued. "But perhaps I can understand where he's coming from."

"Forgive me if I'm less inclined to understand," she muttered, a trace of the previous anger underlying her words.

"I don't blame you," he said, pressing a kiss to her head. "Why do you love him, though?"

"What?" she asked, sitting up and looking at him in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"Exactly what I said," Harry shrugged. "Why do you love him?"

Hermione turned from him and stared at the fraying knees of her old sweats and thought about it. Why did she love him?

"He's unbelievably kind," she murmured. "Not in overt ways, but in the little things that you don't think about until later. Like bringing me tea in the morning or taking Sebastian first thing so I can have a shower before him. It's in the little things, Harry, the half smiles and his hands on my arms or-or kisses in the k-kitchen."

"And he's brilliant with Sebastian," a few tears leaked out of her eyes and she brushed them away under Harry's careful gaze. "I love watching them together, he's so...he loves his son, Harry." A memory of Severus curled up on the couch with Sebastian came to mind and she smiled even as more tears came. "There was this one day, before he moved in, that he came over and I had completely forgotten to get dinner on the go," she laughed and cried at the same time. "I was so distracted by Molly's visit and he was so tired, you could see it in his face. I told him to sit with Sebastian for a bit and that I would throw together something quick. By the time I got back, he was dead to the world with Sebastian tucked into his side. I sat there and watched them sleep and I...I...I never wanted him to go."

"Oh, 'Mione," Harry murmured, clearly unsure of what to say.

"I don't really know why I love him, Harry," she mumbled, her voice thick with tears. "I can't pin it down to one thing; he makes me happy and I just...I love him," she whispered. "But he doesn't trust me and I...I don't know if he could ever love me."

"Why the hell not?" Harry demanded, pulling back to look at her harshly. "There's plenty to love about you Hermione! He'd be an idiot not to love you, a fact which I'm steadily becoming convinced of. And here we all thought he was intelligent."

She knew it was meant to make her laugh, but she couldn't. Instead, she just shrugged despondently. "He gave his heart away a long time ago, Harry."

That seemed to deflate him and he fell back against the counter, pulling her closer again as she buried her face into his chest. He pillowed his cheek on the top of her head and held her until the charms that alerted her to Sebastian's consciousness went off. He eyed her warily as she pulled herself off the floor and wiped her face with the giant Oxford sweater. It was with no small amount of admiration that he watched her close her eyes, gather her strength and close off the emotion that had been like a beacon for anyone to read. Without another word, she turned from the kitchen and went to fetch her son, leaving Harry with an ache in his chest for his best friend and her broken heart.

**I am so glad that this story is already completely written because otherwise you lot would be waiting until I finish ****Post Tenebras, Lux to get anything out of me.**

**Sleep is for the weak.**


	20. Chapter 20

**Cliché **

**Oh, you guys! As if I would leave you without a HEA...**

_**6 months, 1 week:**_

Harry had never been to the little potions shop before but he had heard plenty about it from Hermione. She had been endlessly entertained by the name, taken directly from the book that they had used in their illegal brewing of Polyjuice Potion, and thought it quite fitting for Snape's shop. Harry just thought it was funny that Snape would name his shop after the book that had caused Hermione to steal from his personal stores. Valuing his life, however, he had no intentions of bringing it up. He wasn't sure if the ex-professor knew and if he didn't Harry wasn't going to be the one to enlighten him.

Stepping into the dimly lit store, Harry noted the chime of bells above his head and nearly smirked at the thought of _Snape_ using something so Muggle and so...cheery...to announce a patron. Having expected something akin to his dungeon classroom and offices, he was surprised to see that even though the walls were lined with potions ingredients in glass jars the store did not have the same 'doom and gloom' feel to it that the dungeons had had. Despite being cool and a little dark, the shop was clean and spacious, not even the slimy contents of some of the jars could take away from that.

"What do you want, Potter?"

Harry whirled around, his heart beating irrationally fast as his eyes took in the Potions Master standing behind his counter. It was conditioned into him to be afraid when Snape snuck up on him; it used to result in massive point loss and horrible, humiliating detentions. Old habits didn't die hard—they never died at all.

"I came to speak to you," Harry said, trying not to show how unnerved the other man still made him sometimes.

"I have no desire to listen to you," Snape sneered, his hands white knuckled as he gripped the countertop. Harry couldn't help but notice that, despite the stiff way the older wizard held himself, he looked tired and drawn. His eyes had dark smudges underneath them, making his skin look even paler than usual, and Harry suspected that his grip on the countertop was more out of necessity than simple anger.

"Too bad," Harry said, his demeanour shifting. He had to remind himself that he was no longer the little boy, or the half-trained wizard, of years past. He had decided to confront this man for Hermione, because she was one of the best things in his life, his sister in all ways but blood, and he wasn't leaving until he had had his say. "You're going to listen to what I have to say, and you're going to look at what I have to show you, only then will I leave. You can try to force me out before then but we both know that I could make things very, very nasty for you if I wanted to so you're going to cooperate, are you?"

Snape snorted derisively. "You and Weasley have not changed an iota, have you? He, too, threatened me with his so-called clout. I was a fool to think you had matured."

"Ron has no clout," Harry said harshly. "He may be my friend but it's the truth, and as things stand right now, I don't even know if our friendship is going to survive this latest blunder. Fortunately for you, I am not above petty black mail when it comes to my best mate."

"Fortunately?" Snape sneered. "Do I need to find you a dictionary, Potter? Is your education really so pitiful?"

"_Fortunately_, Snape," Harry repeated, digging into his pockets and pulling out several items as he approached the counter. "Fortunately for you, I happen to have inherited Dumbledore's Pensieve, it wasn't part of Hogwarts*. Fortunately for you, Lavender agreed to help me. Fortunately for you, I love Hermione enough to do anything for her, even brave your undoubtedly passionate hatred for me."

Snape eyed him warily, that hatred barely contained to his eyes, as Harry pulled out the shrunken Pensieve and tapped it with his wand to restore it to its original size. It hovered benignly over the various pieces of parchment that Snape had on his countertop as Harry placed three vials of swirling silvery liquid next to it.

"Contrary to what you may believe about your power over me, Potter, you cannot force me to view these memories. If I have to bring about the ruination of my shop and what remains of my reputation in order to cast you out of my life, I will do so," Snape said coldly, looking down his nose at Harry with the utmost disdain.

"I'm sure you would," Harry said agreeably. "But you're going to view these, and I'm going to view them with you so that you don't do anything stupid like try to rush through them, because you owe your son that much, at the very least."

"Sebastian has nothing to—"

"Spare me," Harry said coldly, glaring at the older wizard. "You have not seen your son in a week; you have neglected him as a father because you think you have been wronged. I am here to clear that matter up for you and since I know you never listen to anything I say, I'm going to show you. You're an intelligent man, recent events aside, and you know how to tell whether or not a memory has been doctored so I trust you to understand exactly what it is that I'm trying to tell you."

"I don't want to see her memories," Snape spat, clearly having nothing else to say in response.

"Then it's a good thing I didn't bring any of hers," Harry growled, pouring all three vials into the Pensieve in successive order so they would play chronologically. "These belong to Lavender and I. After you have viewed them I will leave you to the rest of your miserable existence, so why don't you just fucking play nice?"

Snape glared at him, one that could have defined the phrase 'if looks could kill', and Harry suspected that the older man very much wanted to hex him out of the shop. Harry fingered his wand in his robes and hoped that if Snape decided he'd rather not co-operate, thank you very much, Harry would be quicker on the draw.

Thankfully, for both of them, Snape relented. Scowling he said, "Fine. Let us get this over with."

"After you," Harry gestured towards the Pensieve which, almost as if it was sentient, had expanded so that it could easily accommodate both of them. With a long suffering sigh, Severus waved his wand at the door behind Harry, raising the wards, before lowering his face to the cool surface. As soon as his long, hooked nose touched the liquid his body fell forward, disappearing beneath the surface without creating so much as a ripple. Harry quickly followed.

He landed beside Snape mere seconds after the first memory began.

"This is Lavender's," Harry murmured to the other man before turning his attention to what was going on around him. He had asked for her contribution and told her what he planned on doing with them, but she had not told him exactly what it was that she was giving him.

"_I'm going to come home to a red and gold nursery, aren't I?" Hermione asked, smiling widely at Lavender while Snape sat in a chair next to her bed with his son in his arms._

"_No!" Lavender laughed. "Severus wouldn't let us. He said it was better for the baby to be in a room full of soft, light colours."_

"_He did, did he?" Hermione turned to look at Snape and her smile softened as her eyes lingered on the man in question. Harry could see her gaze following the movement of Snape's hand as he brushed gentle fingers against his son's cheeks..._

The world shifted to a kitchen that Harry wasn't familiar with but that hardly mattered because Hermione was in a right fit and she stole all of his attention.

"_Can you _believe _him!" Hermione raged as she paced the floor in front of the sink like a caged animal. _

"_Well, to be honest? Yes. It's Ron, remember?" Lavender shrugged._

"_But to just barge into Severus' shop and... and talk to him like that? Where the hell does he get off? Who does he think he is?"_

"_Hermione, calm down," Lavender eyed her friend with a slightly worried expression. _

"_I can't!" she tossed her hands up in the air. "I just bloody can't! He stood there and called Severus all sorts of nasty names as if it's his right!"_

"_Snape is a big boy, Hermione," Lavender said. "He's been hearing that kind of thing for years."_

"_That's the problem, Lav. Everyone thinks it's okay to take shots at him and it's not right. He's not ugly, he's not dirty, and he's not evil. He's lovely, actually, and—"_

_Lavender spluttered and laughed. "Did you just call Snape lovely?"_

"_Lavender," Hermione warned, fire in her eyes._

_Lavender held up her hands in mock surrender. "I'm not saying anything against him, 'Mione, I'm just saying the man isn't lovely. Lovely is...mushy, pastel colours and floral patterned cushions that have been embroidered by your Nan. Snape is not lovely."_

"_Okay, perhaps lovely is the wrong word," Hermione conceded, pausing in her restless pacing. "He's not your traditional handsome, no, but sexy for sure."_

"_Oh?" Lavender said, her interest piqued. "Do tell."_

"_You've never seen him without those robes on," Hermione grinned devilishly. _

"_Nor will I probably ever," Lavender laughed. "So put my curiosity to rest and tell me."_

"_Mmmm...," Hermione leaned back against the counter with a smile on her face. "Muggle trousers, Lavender. God," she sighed and wiggled her eyebrows. "He looks fucking fantastic in them. The night we ran into each other in that pub? He was dressed like a Muggle and, I swear to god, I sat there and undressed him with my eyes."_

_Lavender burst into laughter. "You also undressed him with your hands, as I understand it."_

"_You're damn right I did," Hermione chuckled. "Honestly? If more women knew what was hidden under those robes..."_

"_So he's hung like a dragon then?"_

"_LAVENDER!" Hermione shrieked in laughter. "You're disgusting. I'm not talking to you about that, it's private."_

"_Ah, a gal can dream."_

The scene shifted once more and Harry found himself squished against Severus as the pair of them tried to find somewhere to stand in Hermione's relatively small bathroom.

"_Merlin, lose the sappy look on your face," Lavender teased, eyeing Hermione. "I'm about to vomit in my mouth over here."_

"_Shut up," Hermione smiled. "I'm just happy, that's all."_

"_Yeah," Lavender's voice became soft as she smiled at her friend. "You really are, aren't you?"_

"_I am. He... I like having him here," Hermione admitted. "We get on a lot better than I originally thought we would, and I love watching him with Sebastian." She sighed and shook her head. "I sound like a total sap but...every time I see him smile at his son I want to kiss him..."_

Suddenly the two wizards were plunged into darkness as the memory shifted abruptly. Harry heard the wet sniffle and turned in that direction, barely able to make out the shape of a bed in the pitch black.

"_I don't know what to do Lavender...I've lost him..."_

"_You haven't lost him. He'll come to his senses."_

_Hermione didn't answer. She just cried harder. _

As if affected by a Time-Turner, Hermione's bedroom flooded with the light of morning. Sebastian sat in Lavender's lap holding his teddy and pulling on her necklaces.

"_Did you know that Ron asked me to convince Severus to give Sebastian up to be raised by Ron and I?" Hermione said, leaning against her headboard and plucking despondently at her sweats. She looked like absolute shite; her face was ragged and tired, pale and miserable. Her hair hung about her face limp and unwashed._

"_No," Lavender's eyes went wide. "Really? Merlin, Ron."_

"_He's got this image of Severus from when we were kids," Hermione shrugged, her eyes red and swollen. "He still thinks of him as the angry man forced to straddle two very dangerous worlds with absolutely no help or recognition from the people he risked his life to protect. Even now when it's public knowledge that he's the reason why we lived long enough to see the war end, that he saved countless lives by reporting to Dumbledore, people still think he's some evil, miserable git."_

"_And Ron thinks that he wouldn't want you and Sebastian," Lavender mused. "That he would give you up to another wizard."_

"_Well," Hermione whispered, her voice suddenly thick, "I don't know about me, but he would never give up Sebastian. I told Ron he was absolutely nuts, not to mention _wrong_, but...he didn't listen."_

"_Of course," the blonde witch said. "He's Ron, he's thick. But seriously, Severus will take his head out of his arse, I know it."_

_Hermione snorted. "Even if he did, I'm not sure I care anymore..."_

Harry didn't dare look at the other man as the memories shifted once more and became a scene that he remembered all too well from the morning Ginny had Floo'd him, yelling something about Ron and Hermione snogging in public. He didn't want to watch his friend break down again and so he turned to Snape who, thankfully, was riveted to the scene before him. Harry caught snippets of the words as he watched unmasked emotion race across Snape's face and for the first time he wished that he knew this man well enough to understand what those flashes meant.

"_Y-You don't smell like Se-Severus..."_

"_Ron kissed you didn't he?"_

"_He kept going on and on about how we could give a relationship another go and it would work if we tried. I told him, nicely, that he was barking up the wrong tree, it didn't work then and it certainly wouldn't work now. He didn't listen to me, _of course_."_

"_Instead, he leaned over the table and planted one on me. I was so shocked at first Harry, I didn't move and then he...ugh."_

"_He's just as bad as the rest of _them_, he clearly believes I'm a whore, too."_

Harry noted, with some satisfaction, that Snape flinched at the venom in Hermione's voice but it was the last part of the memory that seemed to hit the message home. He watched as all the colour drained from the older wizard's face, making him look almost as pale as he had when Harry, Ron and Hermione had found him dying in the Shrieking Shack.

"_I can't pin it down to one thing; he makes me happy and I just...I love him."_

"_He gave his heart away a long time ago, Harry."_

The memory ended and the world went dark around them seconds before Harry felt his feet lift off the floor and he pulled his dry face out of the Pensieve liquid. Across from him, Severus did the same, eyes downcast and his expression a calm mask of indifference. If Harry hadn't seen the very real emotions playing across the other man's face while he witnessed the memories he might have thought that Snape truly was incapable of feeling anything.

Without a word, Harry swirled his wand over the surface of the Pensieve, calling back his memories and guiding them into the two bottles. He did the same thing for Lavender's, sealing all of them and shrinking down the Pensieve. Snape watched his movements but did not seem to actually see what was happening in front of him.

Pocketing everything that he came with, Harry turned away from the counter and made for the door. He didn't hesitate to flip the 'Open' sign over so that it displayed 'Closed' to those out on the street. With ease he dropped the wards to let himself out and opened the door.

He had done as much as he could.

*** Yes, I know, I know. This is not canon; Harry only got the snitch in Dumblys will. Lame inheritance, I say. A pensieve is so much cooler. Thus, I giveth to Harry...eth. **


	21. Chapter 21

**Cliché **

**There's a wee bit of NSFW in this chap. **

_**6 months, 1 week, 2 days:**_

"_Where is your damn bedroom?" he growled, his hands frantic against her skin. _

"_Fuck it," she declared, yanking him down by his collar and claiming his mouth with hers. Her back slammed into the hallway wall with the weight of his body before she let her knees go slack and slide down to the floor, dragging Severus with her the entire way._

"_I'm too old to be fucking on the floor," he told her, not stopping in his pursuit to rid her of all her clothes._

"_You're a wizard," she laughed, practically tearing his lovely trousers open. "You won't get 'too old' for sex on the floor until you're a hundred."_

"_My dignity begs to differ," he said, pulling her bra open, exposing her breasts to the cooler air of her flat, and making her nipples pebble. He swiftly covered them with his lips, sucking the flesh into his mouth and teasing it with his tongue. _

"_Dignity?" she laughed again as she jerked his trousers down to his thighs, pants and all, exposing his erect cock to her gaze. "Forget that, just feel." _

_She wrapped one hand around his shaft, the other squeezing his arse playfully. He gasped at the sensation, straightening as he released her breast and looked down at her hand on him. _

_An incoherent sound, half grunt, half whimper, escaped him as he watched her pump him slowly. His eyes fluttered shut as she swept her thumb over the leaking tip, spreading fluid around the sensitive glands. She brought her other hand around to fondle his sac and he spread his legs instinctively, letting his head fall back at the sensation. With a grin he couldn't see, she scooted forward, bending uncomfortably to take a swipe at him with her tongue._

"_Sweet Hecate," he groaned, his hands finding purchase in her hair. Gentle fingers swept the curls back off her face as she sucked the head of his cock into her mouth and tongued the slit. "Fucking—Hermione!"_

"_I really wish you would," she said, sitting back up and grinning at him. _

"_I live to serve," he said, his voice deep and smooth as he openly grinned back at her. The sight sent a shiver down her spine; it was positively feral. He leant forward, his face so close she thought he might kiss her again and reached up under her skirt to yank at her knickers._

"_You want me to fuck you?" he whispered, his breath on her wet lips._

"_Yes," she nearly moaned._

"_Right here on the floor?" With deft hands he rid her of the scrap of cotton and pulled her forward. She slid along the wooden floor easily, her back joining her arse as she lay spread out for him. _

"_Tell me," he murmured, ghosting his hands over her skin. His eyes took her in hungrily and she flushed hotly, a mixture of embarrassment and arousal. _

"_Fuck me, Severus," she told him, her voice soft but insistent. "Christ—please."_

_He grinned at her again, that look of a predator with dinner in its sights, and yanked her legs up to drape over his shoulders. He leaned forward and she could feel the blunt head of his cock pressing at her insistently; she reached up for purchase, for something to push against, anything to bring her closer to him. She needed to feel him inside of her, she needed to feel..._

Hermione woke to the cries of her son. Sitting up in bed, the thick duvet fell to her waist and the cool air of her bedroom hit her sweat damp skin making it pebble uncomfortably. She wished, not for the first time, that she could take a dose of Dreamless Sleep potion but besides the fact that it rendered her breast milk inedible for her son, it would have prevented her from hearing him cry in moments such as these. With a grunt, Hermione tossed the blankets back, swung her legs over the side of the bed and went to retrieve Sebastian. He was sitting up in his crib, tears streaming down his little face when she walked in. As soon as he saw her, his arms went up, his little hands making grabbing motions.

"What's wrong, little man?" she asked, picking him up and holding him against her shoulder.

Immediately, he nuzzled his face into her neck, her thick hair creating a curtain around his head. She felt, but did not see, him bring his fist up to his mouth, his little jaw working as he tried to chew on his own hand.

"Did you have a bad dream?" she asked him, rocking slightly back and forth. "I wish I could say the same."

She held him for a while, feeling his body relax against her as he slipped back into sleep, but as soon as she tried to put him back into his crib he woke and began to cry once more. With a sigh, Hermione carried him into her room and tucked him into bed with her. He fell asleep lying on her chest, his fist in his mouth, as she watched the world turn from inky black to steel grey through the part in her curtains.

Hermione hadn't slept properly since _that night_, as it had become in her head, and it had more than caught up to her. She was downing Pepper-Up potions and Energy Draughts as if her life depended on it but it simply wasn't cutting it anymore. She knew that she was withdrawn and cranky; her temper was short and she had caught herself yelling at everyone for anything, even Sebastian for simply being a tired baby. It was with this in mind that she had asked her mum to start watching Sebastian during the day while she was at work. It was high time for him to get used to being around other people and she needed the break from being on guard every moment of the day more now than ever. Of course, she couldn't really lower her guard even without Sebastian around because the entire Wizarding world thought that she was two-timing Severus Snape with Ronald Weasley.

It was amazing how quickly the papers turned around and made the Potions Master into the wounded hero when mere months before they had been decrying that he was unfit to raise a child, that his inherit evil would corrupt the innocent babe.

If she wasn't the one being branded with a metaphorical red letter 'A' she might have laughed. As it were, even Hester would have said 'fuck this' and jumped ship if she were Hermione. Truly, the only thing that stopped her from picking up and leaving was the fact that there were people in her corner, even if they weren't all the ones she had hoped for, and that she was a _Gryffindor_ dammit. She didn't _run_.

The tabloids had tried, ever so valiantly, to get an interview from Severus but he had, as expected, rebuked them with the nastiest and yet still legal hexes he could. She imagined that he had filled up an entire floor in St. Mungo's with his poor victims the first day the story from _Magical Mag_ was picked up by _The Prophet_.

Under different circumstances it would have made her smile.

As it were, the mere thought of him made her stomach twist unpleasantly and she had to fight to keep whatever food she had managed to swallow in her stomach. Not only had he not come by to see his son, he hadn't even written to her about him. _So much for wanting to be involved with him_, she thought bitterly, feeling the traitorous tears slip out the sides of her eyes and into her hair. She wiped them away, furious with herself. _No more of that. Get a grip, Hermione_. Unfortunately, no matter how often she told herself to stop thinking about him, crying over him, or getting angry it rarely worked.

When the sun began to peek through the clouds Hermione forced herself to admit that she could no longer snuggle in bed with her son. She carefully slid him off of her and left him lying in her bed with several wards around him to stop anything from touching him besides her or her mother. Slipping into the shower she performed her morning ablutions with speed before Mrs. Granger arrived. When she got out she took care in casting several glamours over her face to hide the unnatural pale pallor to her skin and the dark smudges that ringed her eyes. She had begun disguising them shortly after Lavender had commented on how sickly she looked at work a few days prior. Hermione was well aware that she was probably not fooling her friend but no one else seemed to be any wiser and that was what mattered.

By the time she was dressed and ready to go, Mrs. Granger was on her doorstep with a smile.

"You look better, dear," her mother said, stepping inside and hanging her coat on the hook. "How is he?"

"Sleeping for the time being," Hermione said, gathering her purse. "He's on my bed; he was fussy late last night so I brought him with me."

"You shouldn't let him get used to sleeping with you, dear," her mother admonished gently.

"_I know that_," Hermione snapped. Her mother's eyebrows rose in silence and Hermione instantly felt ashamed of herself. "I'm sorry, mum. I'm just..."

"I know," Mrs. Granger patted her arm gently. "Go to work, I'll take care of things here."

"Thank you," she said softly. "Use Morgana if you need me, she'll always find me."

"Of course," Mrs. Granger leaned up on her toes, her daughter being taller than her now, and kissed Hermione on the cheek the way she used to when she was just a little girl. "Have a good day."

"I will," Hermione said, her throat thick with emotion all of a sudden. "Love you."

"Love you, too, darling."

Hermione stepped up to her fireplace and threw in the Floo powder before she could get any more teary eyed over a run-of-the-mill conversation with her mum and called out "Kingsley Shacklebolt, Head Auror".

She arrived to carefully controlled chaos.

Several Aurors—Zulu, Beagle, Whites and Stewart to be exact—were yelling to each other about positions, available Aurors, and strengths and weaknesses over a map spread out on Kingsley's desk. The Head Auror looked up as she Floo'd in and relief flooded his face.

"Good, you're here, we're going to need everyone we've got," he said. "You can leave the baby with—you don't have him?" Kingsley's eyes searched her as if she were hiding her son somewhere on her person. "Even better. You're officially on field duty, effective immediately, give me your wand."

Hermione, used to taking orders from this man and complying instantly, handed over the birch wood wand. Kingsley tapped it with his own, making hers glow a bright white, before he handed it back.

"There, restrictions have been reversed," he said. "No time for doing it the proper way."

"What's going on?" she asked the room in general.

Auror Stewart, a Sergeant, looked up and answered her. "We've got an irate husband who decided to take his wife's Muggle lover and the entire Muggle store hostage. Muggle police are there as are their Rita Skeeters," he growled. "It's a giant clusterfuck Granger, we're going to need everyone we can scrounge up."

"Hermione is excellent with Memory Charms," Kingsley said, his face thoughtful as he looked down at the map. "She's also quick with a wand. I want her in with the first force. If she can help take out Stibbins that's great, if not, she'll be on hand to start _Obliviating_ the Muggles."

"Am I on lead for follow-ups, then?" she asked her Head. She usually took the follow-up procedures on cases like this because, as a Muggle-born, she knew how to blend in thus making it easier for her to find and change the memories of those who had witnessed magic but escaped either the Accidental Magical Reversal Squad or the Aurors.

"Yes, that would be best," Kingsley nodded.

"Take Mullens with you," Zulu spoke up from his position at the map. "She's a fair shot with them too, it will go faster."

"Excellent," Hermione said. "I'll go inform her?"

Kingsley nodded and Hermione left, quickly tracking down the woman in question. The rest of the office was in as much of a buzz as Kingsley's room with everyone moving about and getting ready. She knew from previous experience that there would already be several teams of Aurors on scene along with Magical Law Enforcement and the Accidental Squad. The latter would be dealing with the Muggles outside of the store and in the surrounding area by setting up anti-Muggle wards and performing _Obliviations_ where necessary. The people inside the store, however, would require stronger charms since they were most likely exposed to quite a bit of magic.

"Mullens," Hermione said, waylaying the witch. "Kingsley asked me to tell you that we'll be on point together for Memory Charms and follow-ups, okay?"

The older witch eyed Hermione up and down as if she were a particularly nasty creature that she had no wish to be anywhere near; it was a look Hermione hadn't seen since Draco Malfoy had called her a Mudblood for the first time on the Quidditch Pitch.

"Fine," she said, her lip curling with distaste.

"You don't have to like it," Hermione growled, angry at the other woman's attitude. "Just do it or you'll be the one explaining to Kingsley why it is that you're incapable of doing your job."

Mullens smirked. "Yeah, wouldn't want your paramour to be upset with me, now would we?"

"What on earth are you—"

Hermione didn't get a chance to finish as the witch walked away from her at the exact moment that Auror Stewart came out of Kingsely's office, bellowing for the First Wave.

"Assemble!" he roared, sounding a lot like Moody. He tapped his wand on a bare wall and a three dimensional map appeared. With another tap it zoomed into the Muggle area and the grocery store that they were going to be taking over. "I want you in this building, wands out and ready to Stun anything that moves. Muggles are to be Stunned, no matter what, until Stibbins can be dealt with and dispatched if necessary. Am I clear?"

"Yes, sir," the room echoed, Hermione included.

She knew it was standard practice but she always felt bad for Stunning unsuspecting Muggles.

"On my count!" Stewart called. "Three, two, Apparate!"

Hermione, like the rest of the First Wave, held her wand up and out at the 'Ready' position as she turned into herself and let her magic squeeze her through time and space. It was impossible to move oneself once Apparition had begun so in order to arrive ready to Stun one had to _leave_ ready to Stun.

Her feet hit ground in the frozen food aisle. She heard simultaneous 'pops' of her co-workers and a few voices crying _Stupefy!_ Above it all was the yelling of a man's voice, incoherent but clearly enraged.

Hermione caught a whimper and spun to her left. There, hiding behind a display for biscuits was a mother and her little son. The woman's eyes were wide and horrified as she took in the witch before her; Hermione watched as the Muggle's eyes went unerringly to the wand in her hand and she quickly tried to shove her son behind her.

Silently, Hermione put her finger to her lips and, with a quick look around, she darted over to the pair of them. The little boy, practically hidden by his mother's coat, peeked out from behind her.

"It's okay," Hermione whispered. "We're the police."

"Police?" the woman echoed.

"A different kind of police, but yes," Hermione smiled reassuringly. "We have to subdue him but before I do that, I need to make sure you two are kept safe, okay?"

"How are you—," Hermione didn't let her finish as she cast a silent _Stupefy_ first at the woman, and then her son. With a quick rap on each of their heads, she Disillusioned them for good measure. Too often wizards on the run attacked Muggles, either for the sake of it or in a bid to divert the attention of the pursuing Aurors.

When the mother and son were secure Hermione began to creep forward, casting Cushioning Charms on her feet, as she made her way down the cold food aisle. When she reached the end of it she saw several more Stunned Muggles and Disillusioned them as quickly as she could.

"Just let him go, Stibbins!" a voice called, trying for soothing but falling short.

"No! He's fucking my goddamn _wife_!" an angry voice answered. "This piece of shit! _This!_"

"I understand that, Stibbins," yet another voice joined in the fray as Hermione crept forward silently, "but this isn't the way to deal with it. This is the way you get yourself locked up in Azkaban."

"Do you think I _care_ about that?" Stibbins cried. Hermione felt a twinge of pity shoot through her at the obvious anguish in his voice. "I'll gladly go once this fucking _Muggle_ is dead!"

_This_, Hermione thought to herself, _is yet another example of how wizards come to hate Muggles._

A slight noise behind her had her spinning and pointing her wand with deadly accuracy right at the heart of Auror Mullens. The other woman sneered at Hermione and there was a part of her that didn't want to lower her wand, even though she did. She turned again and began moving forward once more.

She cleared the end of an aisle where tissue paper was stacked, displayed with a giant sale sign, and slowly peered around it. She could see Stibbins where he stood with a younger man held to his front, an arm around his throat and a wand pointed at his temple. Stewart and an older Auror that she recognized but didn't know by name faced Stibbins with their wands drawn. From across the aisle another three Aurors crept slowly up to surround the crazed man and his hostage.

Hermione quickly turned around. She cast a silent _Muffliato_ spell around her and Mullens before speaking.

"I have a clear shot of him. I'm going to step out before he notices us closing in on him. I need you to cover me," she said, turning back around before the woman could get rude with her. She cancelled her spell wordlessly and stood in the same motion, fluidly pointing her wand at Stibbins' back just as someone coughed behind her.

Stibbins turned before she could even _think_ her spell, his eyes widening as he saw her. They both drew back to cast at the same time.

Hermione, thinking of the hostage, cast an _Expelliarmus_.

Stibbins, thinking Merlin knew what, cast a _Reducto._

The last thing she saw was the ground at her feet blow apart.

**For those of you who asked, HEA stands for Happily Ever After. I always have one in my stories. I can't stand stories that end in tragedy or make me feel like shit after I've finished. I need warm and fuzzies. I needs them. **


	22. Chapter 22

**Cliché**

_**6 months, 2 weeks:**_

She drifted in a haze. Her body felt heavy and her brain thick; she wanted to move, to open her eyes but nothing seemed to be listening to her. She could hear snippets of conversation, a strange chiming sound and the familiar swish of robes around feet.

"I'm sorry Mr. Snape but seeing as you're not family, you can't be here. I have to ask you to—"

"I'd like to see you try."

"Please, she would want him here, just let him stay."

"I'm sorry Mrs. Granger but our policy states that—"

"Damn your policy to hell, woman! I'm not leaving!"

The wails of a child met her ears and she knew, through the haze and fog of her mind, that this was important. She had to move, she had to get to the child. Who was it? The child was important, he was...hers? The chiming sound became more frantic, increasing in tempo as if racing to a conclusion...a conclusion that yes, the child is hers. Her child. Her son. Her—

"She's panicking." The voice was close, right over top of her. She couldn't see it but she could almost feel the presence. She wanted to reach out, to grab this person, demand to know where her son was. Where is— "I need to sedate her."

She felt her head forced back and her mouth pried open as a voice shouted from somewhere in the distance.

"What are you doing, woman? You call that Healing? You're going to break her jaw!" This voice came closer, snarling viciously. The presence left, replaced by someone else. Soap, herbs, sweat. She knew this one. She knew him, she knew his scent, his—

"Open up for me, Hermione," he said, gentle hands cradling her face.

"Nuuhh..." she turned her head away from him. She had to know. She _needed_ to know. Where was he? Her son? Sebastian! Where?

"Hermione," he gently turned her head back to him again. "It's a pain potion, you've been hurt. You have to drink this, please."

A dim part of her brain registered that she had never heard him say the word 'please', especially not like that.

"Suhb," she tried to open her eyes and look at him. She knew if she could look at him she could remember his name, she just needed to see—

"Sebastian is fine," he murmured, hands smoothing over her cheeks, her jaw, her neck. "He's with your mother, he's safe. If you want to see him you have to drink your potion, though. Come on, Hermione, open up for me."

"Guhng," she grunted, not even sure what she was trying to say to him. She felt his thumb part her lips and she let him open her mouth, pressing down on her teeth with one hand and cradling her head back with the other.

"Good, Hermione, good," he murmured. There was a rustling and the hand on her head let go before a thick liquid poured into her mouth, coating her tongue with a cloying sweetness that made her want to gag. She choked slightly as it hit the back of her throat but a hand massaging the column of her neck made her swallow and the potion went down, spreading a tingling warmth as it went.

"Sev'er..." she murmured, feeling her whole body grow pliant and relaxed.

"I'm here," he whispered.

She drifted again.

**xXx**

Hermione woke with a start, her head jerking back seemingly of its own volition as her eyes fluttered open.

"Well, good morning to you!" The familiar voice of Healer Bray met her ears, causing her to look up at the woman who was sitting on the edge of her bed. "Sorry about that," she said, holding up a small vial and capping it. "It brings you round rather fast."

"Smelling salts?" Hermione rasped.

"Similar," Healer Bray picked up a glass of water from Hermione's bedside table and conjured a straw. "Less for fainting fancies and more for bringing someone out of a medicated sleep."

Hermione sipped from her water, feeling it coat her throat and relishing in the sensation.

"Medicated?" she echoed. "What happe—"

She broke off as her gaze automatically began to catalogue the room around her and she spotted Severus standing in the corner, holding Sebastian in his arms. He met her eyes, his own inscrutable and dark, but he did not come closer.

"You were injured at work," Healer Bray continued, making Hermione look at her. "What's the last thing you remember?"

"I...," she blinked, thinking back. "I remember the Muggle grocery store. There was a wizard, he...he had a hostage? Yes, a hostage. A Muggle man, his wife's lover. He cursed me?"

"Sort of," Healer Bray said, pulling her wand out of her sleeve and pointing it at Hermione's chest. "He cursed the ground at your feet; your body caught the backlash of the explosion."

"My...?" Hermione looked down, pulling the sheet away from her slowly. Her limbs felt stiff and uncoordinated. Her entire torso was covered in bandages that wrapped right around her. "How bad is it?" she whispered.

"When all is said and done, it's not that bad. It certainly could have been worse. The impact of the debris hit you full force in the chest, breaking three ribs and fracturing two more. It also bruised the tissue of your lungs, so breathing hard will hurt for a little while, but that is all on the mend. You have several cuts and abrasions but none of it will scar so there's no worry there."

"Why am I covered in gauze then?" she asked.

"The wounds had quite a bit of dirt in them, as I understand it the suspect used a _Reducto_ curse on the floor at your feet, causing it to explode. I've had to use a salve that will slowly push the dirt and grit out of your wounds instead of a cleansing charm. The charm is too harsh, it would stop the skin from knitting back together seamlessly. This will take time but you won't have any scars."

"Thank you, Healer," Hermione said softly, trying to smile at her. "Do you know what happened with Stibbins? His hostage?"

"You did well, my dear," Healer Bray smiled. "Auror Kingsley was in not too long ago and he told us that you effectively disarmed Stibbins despite his cursing you. The other Aurors were able to take him in and free the man he held. Oh, and I've been told that you have yet another hearing to attend now."

"I...what?"

"In addition to Roger," Healer Bray's mouth twisted at the name, "it seems that your partner deliberately sabotaged you."

Hermione frowned, casting her mind back to the seconds before Stibbins turned and caught her with her wand trained on him.

"_Mullens_," she spat, sitting up and ignoring the twinge of pain from her chest. "That stupid bit—" Hermione broke off and looked over to where Severus stood with Sebastian. He had come closer to her while Healer Bray spoke but still, he did not speak.

Holding out her hands, she met his eyes. "I would like to hold my son," she said, her voice flat.

Severus handed Sebastian over and the baby made a happy sound at being settled in his mother's lap. He looked up at her, eyes exactly like his father's but oh, so much more expressive, and began babbling excitedly to her. She smiled at him and brushed his cheek with a kiss, inhaling his familiar baby scent—a mixture of soap, milk, stewed carrots and just baby.

"Why would she do this to you?"

Hermione's head shot up at the sound of Severus' smooth, calm voice. She met his gaze and the lack of emotion in his made her anger and hurt flare up. Part of her wondered why he was in her hospital room considering the explosion of their last encounter. Perhaps it was simply because of Sebastian.

"She does not approve of my personal life, nor the people in it," Hermione glared at him. "Pity she doesn't read _The Prophet_, she would have known that my circumstances have changed. Then again, she seems to be under the impression that I'm screwing Kingsley, too, and apparently she objects to a woman securing a better job by opening her legs but hey, I've got to take what I can, no?"

Severus' face remained impassive though she saw how stiff his shoulders became as ranted, her son blissfully ignorant of what was going on around him as he patted her bandaged chest curiously.

Healer Bray cleared her throat awkwardly. "I'm going to go file your release papers, I'll be back later."

Neither Hermione nor Severus looked at her, their gazes locked on each other—one hostile, the other seemingly calm—until the soft click of a latch catching signalled the door had closed behind the Healer.

"What are you doing here, Severus?" she demanded, her voice hard. "As I remember it, you made your position quite clear. Nothing has changed in that regard, so why are you here?"

"I was with your mother when Potter arrived with an owl from St. Mungo's. He is listed as your next of kin, so he was notified when you were brought in," he responded as if he were delivering a report on the twelve uses of Dragon's Blood, not speaking to the mother of his child. Anger crawled along her skin, making her flex her fingers with the urge to reach up and strangle the man.

"I'm quite aware of who is listed as my magical kin," she growled. "You can get out now."

"Excuse me?"

For the first time, inflection entered his voice and his expression changed—to disbelief.

"Did I stutter? Get out. Now."

"No," he retorted, frowning at her. "I need to speak to you and I'm not le—"

"You had your opportunity to talk to me," she growled, trying to keep her voice as level as possible so as not to upset Sebastian again. He was, thankfully, still happily exploring her bandaged torso, arms and hands. His clumsy little fingers grasped and pulled at the white gauze, ineffectually trying to pull it from her. "I distinctly remember begging you to listen to me, to talk to me but you opted for walking out. Well, you've had sufficient practice, there's the door," she gestured to it with one hand, the other snaking around her son's torso.

"Hermione, please—" Perhaps had she not been so angry, she would have registered the way his voice softened, the unfamiliar pleading note mingling with the familiar deep, smooth tenor she had become accustomed to. As it were, she did not.

"No," she cut him off, her eyes as cold and hard as her voice. "You can walk out of here on your own will power, or I can call security and have them remove you."

His face briefly reflected his shock before it grew hard. "And when do I get to see my son again?" he demanded, his voice low and angry.

"Oh! You want to see him now?" she laughed bitterly. "Strange, the radio silence of the last week had me under the impression you gave as much of a fuck about him as you clearly do about me."

"When do I get to see him?" he bit out, his jaw tense with anger and his hands clenched into fists.

"When I contact a law wizard about visitation and custody," she responded, the words spilling from her lips without thought. She hadn't planned it and they almost shocked her. Almost.

The effect on Severus was instantaneous. He reared back as if she had slapped him and all the blood drained from his face; his eyes widened and his mouth went slack.

"You...you are," he tried, words seemed beyond him. "Why, Hermione?" he whispered.

The whisper, the pain in his voice, brought tears to her eyes and she looked away, her throat suddenly tight. The anger flooded out of her, leaving behind a stinging sense of emptiness.

"We tried, Severus," she murmured. "It didn't work. It's better to do this part with a mediator, make it legal and binding."

"Better for who?" he rasped. She closed her eyes against the sound and tightened her arms around her son.

"Better for him," she whispered.

A strange sound left Severus then, a sort of choked sigh. She heard him move but didn't open her eyes even as the rustle of robes drew closer to her bedside. Sebastian let out a gurgling sound as he began to babble and she knew that he was talking to his father; she could practically feel the heat radiating off of him, could smell the scent of herbs that clung to him at all times. The familiarity of it made her heart clench painfully in her chest and she fought down a sob, swallowing thickly.

"Please, open your eyes," he whispered, his voice soft and, for once, completely open. She could hear the pain, the sadness, in those four little words. It was that emotion, evident without the use of her eyes, that made her look at him.

Gently, he placed a little black box on the white linens of her bed, right next to her foot. She stared at it, unable to process exactly what it was that she felt. It was so small and innocuous, the black of the leather stark against her sheets, but it felt like that little box heralded the end of the world. Sebastian reached for it, making little grunting noises when she kept him close.

"I went to the Auror office first, but you had already left," his words were quiet and stilted, as if he were forcing himself to say them. Like her, his gaze was trained on the box. "When I was told that you had gone into the field and that Sebastian was not there, I figured that you had someone watching him at your flat, so I went there. Your mother and I were...talking...when Potter barged in, yelling about you being in the hospital. We rushed here to find that you were unconscious and with Healer Bray, I suppose she just happened to be on the Emergency shift when you were brought in."

"The whole time we sat there, waiting to hear anything about your condition, all I could think was that I might never get the chance to tell you that I was wrong, that I'm sorry for doubting you, for letting my jealousy cloud my judgment," his voice became impossibly soft that she almost missed his next words. "I thought that I might not get the chance to tell you that I...I l-love you," she tore her eyes away from the box then to watch the profound sadness on his face. He reached out and gently tapped the box with the tip of a long finger. "Or give you this. It belonged to my mother; it's one of the few things she managed to keep after her family disowned her for marrying a Muggle."

Hermione had no idea that there were tears silently coursing their way down her cheeks as she watched him, her heart breaking in her chest at the blatant agony in his expression and the glossiness of his eyes.

"Severus..." she had no idea what to say.

"I'm sorry, Hermione," he murmured. "I'm sorry I ruined it."

He tapped the box once more with his finger before he drew back and turned away, walking around her bed with a steady gait. His head was down, black hair curtaining off his face from her view and his shoulders hunched forward.

"Don't!" she called, her voice breaking on the single word and making him stop halfway to the door. She felt like someone had reached into her chest and ripped it open to squeeze her lungs in a tight grip. Her breath hiccupped in her chest and pain lanced through her. Stuttering unevenly she unconsciously tightened her grip on her son. "Please, don't go, Severus."

His body seemed to hunch in on itself even more, making a previously tall and proud looking man resemble something broken beyond repair, before he turned to look at her. He made no effort to hide the tears that glittered in his eyes and her heart ached in reaction. Severus Snape never cried, and if he did, he certainly never let anyone see.

"I don't want to," he whispered, his voice barely carrying to her.

"So don't," she cried, voice thick and pleading. "I take it back, I take it back. Stay with m-me. Us."

"I ruined it," he whispered, closing his eyes.

"No," she said, swallowing. With a voice that was slightly stronger, she declared, "Walking out that door will ruin it. Can't we fix this?"

He closed his eyes and, blindly, made his way to her bed. She watched his suddenly uneven steps as he rushed to her side and almost threw himself at her. His arms unerringly wrapped around her and Sebastian, the latter letting out a little grunt as the grip around him was tightened once more. Hermione wrapped one arm around Severus' waist, pressing her face to his shoulder and letting his clothing soak up her tears. They made an awkward picture, for sure, with Severus' long and lanky frame half sitting on the bed, half off of it, his head buried in her neck and his arm awkwardly around her and the babe. It wasn't comfortable but neither of them said a word as he quietly shook against her, murmuring her name interspersed with 'I'm sorry'. If her bandages were curiously damp when she finally pulled him down onto the bed with her, scooting onto her side and holding Sebastian to her chest so that he could curl up behind, she said nothing of it.

They had a lot to discuss, she knew it even as relief washed over her in an enormous wave. She wouldn't run from it this time, or hope that he would make the first move, because time had taught her that running only makes it worse and Severus Snape wasn't much of a talker when it comes to any and all things emotional.

Far sooner than she would have thought possible, Severus' breathing evened out and his grip slackened slightly. It occurred to her that he had probably not slept while she was unconscious and she gently laced her fingers with his. Using the hand half cradling Sebastian and a wordless spell she Summoned the little box from the bottom of the bed, catching it and holding it up for her son to peer at. He was not in the mood for a nap but he was being blessedly silent as his father slept. Slowly, she pried the lid open with her thumb until it snapped back on a spring.

There, nestled safely in more black leather lay a beautiful white gold ring. Holding a modest sized diamond between two arms made of Celtic knots, it was beautiful in its simplicity. She stared blankly at it and all that it symbolized as her mind whirled; was he serious about marrying her? Or was this a misguided attempt to show that he loved her? She didn't doubt that he loved her; she had suspected that he did and Severus was not the kind of man to say something like that without meaning it but...what if he simply thought that marriage was the only way to demonstrate love? Was this a reaction to his fear? If she said yes, would they end up miserable later? Could she even _think_ about saying yes right now, when their relationship was reeling? Sebastian reached for the ring box, making a whining sound in the back of his throat as it remained beyond him.

"Hermione Granger," a quiet voice spoke up, startling her. "Would you do me the honour of becoming my wife?"

**Well folks, this is it. The last chapter before the epi. I know, I know, you're probably thinking, "wait, what?" because there are still issues to be dealt with. They **_**will**_** be dealt with in the epilogue. I never planned on having a long, drawn out thing with Hermione and Severus learning to trust one another again but rest assured that all the issues left open here will be addressed in the epilogue by my favourite Potions Master. **


	23. Epilogue

**Cliché**

**I have a friend visiting from the states this weekend so I won't be able to upload it then, and I didn't want to make you wait till Monday ;)**

**Enjoy!**

_**19 years later:**_

"Daaaaaad!"

Severus folded the top of his paper down and watched his sixteen year old daughter slide into the seat across from him at their kitchen table.

"Ask your mother," he said, flipping the paper back up and attempting to resume his morning read.

"She told me to ask you."

"Of course she did," he muttered, folding the paper again and dropping it to the table. "She lives to torment me."

"Probably," his daughter agreed with far too much cheer. He scowled at her but it had no effect; it never had. His daughter was probably the only 6th year student who wasn't afraid of him. _Just like her brother_, he thought to himself with a sigh.

"Fine," he grumbled, picking up his coffee and taking a sip. "What is it you want to do now, Evelyn?"

She smiled at him beautifully, reminding him of her mother in that moment. For all the fact that her hair was as black as pitch and not nearly as curly, she was the spitting image of Hermione. Only her colouring, those dark, dark eyes, gave her away as a Snape. Well, that and her ability to play her father like a perfectly tuned instrument.

"Well," she started, "you know how James' mum and dad are letting him attend that Muggle summer camp, right?"

"I do not like where this is going." Sitting back and folding his arms over his chest, her gave her a look. It didn't have the same effect when he wasn't in his teaching robes but he never wore them at home.

"Just hold on," she said, grinning and him and holding up her hands. "This Muggle camp, do you know what they're doing?"

"I have a feeling you are about to enlighten me," he arched an eyebrow at her.

"They're going to _America_!" she beamed at him, her eyes alight with excitement. "And I wanna go so bad, Dad! Can I go? I mean, James is going so it's not like I'd be alone or anything. Besides, the laws are different in America and I'm old enough to use my wand over there!"

Severus' eyebrow arched further and he wondered just exactly when his daughter had begun to say things like 'wanna' instead of 'want to'.

"And has your mother given her opinion on this?" he asked, his voice carefully neutral.

"She said that she wanted me to talk to you first and then she'd talk to you about it," Evelyn said in a rush. "I have to sign up by tomorrow in order to go next week, so... can I go?"

"You expect me to just say yes or no, right now?"

"Yeah?"

"No."

"_Daaaaaaaaad!_" Evelyn whined, letting her head drop to the table with a loud thump. "Please, Dad! C'mon! When will I ever get the chance to go to America again?"

"When you've graduated Hogwarts and can decide what you want to do with the rest of your life," Severus answered immediately. "When you're an adult."

"Oh come on, Dad!" she looked at him beseechingly. "What else am I going to do all summer?"

"I'm sure you'll find something," he said. "You could start on your Advanced Potions."

"I don't want to spend my summer in the basement puttering around cauldrons, Dad!" Evelyn cried, distress evident in her voice now. "I love brewing with you, I do, but I want to _do_ something! I want to _go_ somewhere! Where's your sense of adventure, Dad?"

Severus sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose as a sense of déjà vu washed over him. Hermione had once asked him those very words.

"I used it all up," he grumbled to his daughter, half expecting to hear '_Well, aren't you lucky I've still got some left?'._

"But I haven't!" Evelyn protested. "Could you imagine how _annoying_ James will be if he gets to go and I don't?"

He could, actually. The young man, nearly the exact same age as his daughter, had become an almost permanent fixture in his life and his house from the time of his infancy. He and Evelyn had been best friends, and the fiercest of competitors, since they had learned how to crawl. The squabbles that had sometimes erupted between the two friends as they grew up had been intense and as he separated the pair of them time and time again Severus often wondered if the boy's namesake wasn't laughing at him from somewhere.

"I am sure he would love to rub it in," Severus agreed heavily, eyeing his daughter somberly. Much like her brother, she had seemed to grow up far too fast. She would be a legal adult in less than a year's time and then he wouldn't be able to stop her from going where she pleased, whenever she pleased.

The thought made an unpleasant wisp of fear uncurl in his gut.

It was different, somehow, from Sebastian. Hermione would say that he was being sexist and that Evelyn was just as capable as her brother. Were he someone else, an outsider, he would argue that she was even _more_ capable than Sebastian in a lot of ways—she had a solid head full of common sense on her shoulders and a wickedly fast wand—but this was his little girl and she would never be old enough for him to stop worrying about her.

"_Exactly_," Evelyn agreed, smacking her palm against the wooden table. "Do you want to have to listen to his bragging all year? I certainly don't."

He sighed. She was a Slytherin, his daughter, despite being housed in Ravenclaw to play on her father's obvious distain for teenage theatrics. Severus may not inspire fear in his children, which was a good thing no doubt, but that didn't extend to their friends. Despite James having grown up spending his summers with Evelyn at their home in Manchester he had a healthy respect for the Potions Master who would not hesitate to snap at him within the confines of the classroom and hand out a detention that would have made his famous father cringe.

"Let me talk to your mother," Severus hedged. Evelyn's dark eyebrows shot up and her eyes widened with glee seconds before she shot out of her seat and threw herself at her father. "I'm not agreeing to anything!" he cried, trying not to be strangled by his daughter's enthusiasm.

"I love you, Daddy!" she cried happily, half in his lap, half hanging off his neck. She planted a kiss on his cheek and straightened, beaming at him.

"You only call me Daddy when you want something," he grumbled, but he was smiling as he said it.

"Yeah, but you love it anyway," she smirked at him and he rolled his eyes.

"Away with you, mongrel," he said, waving his wand over the coffee she spilled when she nearly upended the table with her exuberance. "Let an old man have some peace."

"No chance of that!" she laughed. "Aunt Ginny is here, I was supposed to tell you."

"You little sneak!" he said, chuckling as she bounced happily out of the kitchen. She knew that he would have put her off until later had he know her aunt was in the house. With a sigh, he stood up and grabbed his mug before making his way into their little sitting room.

The house was fairly small for a family of four but since they lived at Hogwarts for the majority of the year there was little point in them having a large home. He had taken up the post of Potions Master once more when Minerva McGonagall had owled him, frantic and desperate in the middle of the year. He'd agreed to finish out the year for her but he never ended up leaving. He had closed down his shop at Diagon Alley and after lessening his number of customers, simply brewed by owl order from Hogwarts. The castle had always accommodated their needs, giving him a large lab above ground so that owls could easily come and go, adding an extra room to their quarters when Evelyn was born and providing a guest suite for Sebastian when he came in from London and stayed with them.

He walked down a small hallway, following the sound of voices and the shrieks of childlike glee until he came upon them in the den.

Much like any house owned by Severus and Hermione Snape, the walls were covered with more bookshelves than what was probably considered wise. It made the small room feel even smaller but neither of them particularly cared since they were the ones who spent the most time in it. If it weren't for the fact that it held their only fireplace they would probably be the _only_ ones who spent any length of time there.

As it were, the small room held a large and comfortable sofa that sat in the middle of everything with its back to the fire and facing a Muggle telly. A large oak desk pushed up against the only free wall space right under the window on the far wall and a small end table rested next to the couch, closest to him and the doorway.

"Uncle Sev'rus!"

His eyes unerringly found little Lily Potter situated on his son's lap where he sat on the floor with his back against the couch. His smile was genuine and fond as he took in her happy face and frantically waving hand. She had enough exuberance to put Evelyn to shame.

"Hello, Lily," he said, leaning against the door jam. "What are you doing to Sebastian?"

She grinned with pure childish joy. "Braiding."

Hermione, seated with Ginny on the couch behind the pair, laughed as the six year old girl fought with their son's curls. The man in question sat with a quiet grin on his handsome features and let the child make a general mess of his hair.

"Hullo, Dad," he said, looking up at his father through Lily's little arms. "I hear Evie cornered you about America."

Much like the way Evelyn resembled Hermione, Sebastian had grown up to resemble Severus which, as Hermione often said, was a good thing since he would have looked funny had he taken after his mother. He was tall and lanky, just an inch shy of being the same height as his father, with pale skin that looked shocking next to his dark hair and eyes. Unlike his father his nose was straight, if a little on the large side, and he had a confidence and charm that Severus had never possessed. When he went out in public women took notice, as did some of the men, and when he flashed a white toothed smile at one of them the titters became an audible symphony of hormones.

Severus smirked as he remembered one particular outing. Hermione had hexed a woman who had propositioned their then sixteen year old son as he stood in the middle of Madam Malkins' Robes for All Occasions to be outfitted for new school set. The woman had been more than twice his age and when Severus had laughingly pointed out later that _he_ was twice _her_ age she had threatened to hex him, too.

"He's sixteen!" she had muttered, stomping her way through Diagon Alley with her husband, son and daughter trailing in her angry wake. "I was twenty-five when we had Sebastian, I was an adult!"

"I'm almost an adult," Sebastian had unhelpfully pointed out.

His mother had rounded on him in the middle of the street, her finger pointed at his nose.

"I will hex your unmentionables to another continent, young man," she warned. "She is too old for you, end of story! You can date older women when _you_ are older."

Behind her, Severus had made desperate hand motions to his son to cease and desist immediately while Evelyn fought to keep a grin off of her thirteen year old face.

"Yes, mum," Sebastian had mumbled, ducking his head to hide his own smile as she wheeled around again, her anger fuelling her rapid march into Flourish & Blotts.

Severus sighed, slipping back into the present and eyeing his nearly twenty year old son. "She did, indeed," he shot a pointed look at his wife, who held up her hands.

"Blame Harry and Gin, they're the ones who let James go," she grinned.

"Tell me about this Muggle camp, Ginevra," he said, crossing the den and stepping over his son's long legs to perch on the arm of the couch next to Hermione.

"It's an exchange program of sorts," the red headed witch said. "They'll be staying with a Muggle American family. Both our children and theirs will attend events in the city that they're staying in. The idea is for young people to experience each other's cultures. After a month, the Americans will join our children here and the company will take them to events and sites in England."

"We'd have to house a Muggle child?" Severus asked. At Ginevra's nod, he turned an incredulous look towards his wife. "Are you insane, woman?"

Hermione laughed and leaned against his leg, reaching up to pat his knee. "I've thought it through, love. We'll stay at my mother's place and she'll come here for the month. It will be easy for the two of us to pop back here if we need anything and we won't have to hide as much."

"And what do you plan to do about having a Muggle child in your house?" he asked Mrs. Potter.

"Harry is up for the challenge," she laughed. "We plan to spend that month at Grimmauld Place instead of Godric's Hollow."

"Oh, the Blacks that will spin in their graves," he rolled his eyes. "It's almost worth all the preparation you're going to have to do."

Ginevra shrugged. "It's a good opportunity for them. They need to see what it's like to live like Muggles, not just what it's like in America. I know that I would have liked to have done something like it when I was a kid and I think it would have gone a long way to prevent the kind of prejudice Hermione got when we were kids."

"Could you imagine Draco Malfoy using a toaster?" Hermione asked, snorting. "Or having to wash his own clothes?"

Ginevra laughed. "He'd have had an aneurism."

"No," Severus said. "He would have cheated and used his magic when no one was looking."

"True," Hermione agreed. "So what do you think?"

He looked down at her and without thinking let his hand work its way into her thick hair, winding a curl around his finger and stroking it with his thumb. The action was now an unconscious one but it hadn't always been that way; it had taken him a long time to learn how to show affection in front of others, and even now he rarely did so outside of 'the family'. Again, he thought that James Potter, and probably Sirius Black, must be laughing at him from on high at the fact that Potter and his brood, not to mention some of the Weasleys, were people he considered to be like family.

"I think you're insane and if this goes pear shaped I will tell you that I told you so," he answered flatly, making his son laugh. Sebastian tipped his head back so that he could see his parents.

"You doubt Evie's ability to blend in with Muggles?" he asked.

"No," Severus shook his head. "The two of you grew up with enough Muggle culture that it wouldn't be a problem for her. I'm thinking more about hiding the fact that we are very much a magical family from a Muggle child, even if they are in your mother's house. Have you thought about all the owls you get from work each week?"

"Wards will take care of that."

"And what about Morgana?"

"My mum will be happy to keep her company here," Hermione shrugged.

"And my potions? I had plans for this summer."

"You could always stay here with my mother," she grinned. Severus glared at her.

"You could take my flat in London, Dad," Sebastian said. "I'd stay here with Grandma."

"Aren't you taking summer classes?" he said, turning to his son.

Sebastian had promptly enrolled in The London Academy of Magicks after he had graduated from Hogwarts to do a specialization in Transfiguration and Charms. In the two years since he had almost completed a four year program of study by over loading his courses and taking classes throughout thr summer. The amount of work he managed to plow through sometimes made Severus' head spin but Sebastian was anxious to finish his degree. He had his eye on a job with a private firm that developed pre-charmed products for the magical community.

"I can Apparate or Floo," he shrugged.

"This has got 'bad idea' written all over it," he declared, shaking his head.

"It will be fine, love," Hermione patted his knee affectionately. "You'll see."

"Famous last words," Sebastian grinned at them, wincing slightly as Lily pulled a little too hard on a lock of curly hair.

"I sincerely hope no—"

Severus' words were cut off by the familiar whoosh of the Floo being activated and all of them turned around to see who was paying an unexpected social call. He watched a figure grow larger in the green flame and knew that it had to be one of their trusted friends; otherwise the person would have been rejected. Not just anyone could Floo into his home—he hadn't been a spy for twenty years for nothing. The house itself was unplottable and warded almost as well as Hogwarts itself. Hermione had stopped him from putting it under the Fidelius only because it would mean that no one would ever be able to reach them without being privy to the Secret and so many people knowing would invalidate the point of the charm.

A familiar face and body materialized, stepping out of the flame without bothering to dust the soot from her robes. With her usual flare for the dramatics, Lavender Brown let out a little "eep!" and darted around their couch without so much as a 'by your leave' before throwing herself at the telly.

"Lav?" Hermione asked. "Are you okay?"

"Nice to see you again, Lavender," Severus drawled, watching as the blonde witch fumbled with the remote control.

"Shh! My telly stopped working! Stupid Seamus cast a Silencing Charm at it and now the damn thing won't work at all," she said, her voice frantic. "I. AM. MISSING. MY. SHOW," she growled as the telly came to life and she jabbed at the buttons.

"Did I hear...?" Evelyn's head popped into the doorway and her face broke into a smile. "Aunt Lavender!"

"Hello sweetheart," Lavender spared her a quick glance. "Come make this thing work for me, would you, doll?"

Evelyn took the remote from her. "What channel?"

"Twenty-three," Lavender said, throwing herself inelegantly onto the floor next to Sebastian. "It's an American one." She turned to Sebastian and Lily. "Hey little man, what are you doing here? Shouldn't you be in London?"

"Just visiting for the day," he said, leaning over to brush a kiss against his aunt's cheek. "And when are you going to stop calling me little man?"

"Never," she grinned at him. "You'll always be a wee, pooping, screaming thing to me."

"Charming," Severus drawled and Lavender looked up at him with a devilish grin. The pair of them actually got on quite well when she wasn't driving him nuts with her spontaneity.

Lavender Brown was everything he was not; she was exuberant, outgoing and lively. She made decisions on a whim and joked her way through life without much of a plan as to where she'd end up. It worked for her, but it made him want to back away slowly. Despite having been living with Seamus Finnegan for several years and being wholly committed to him, she refused to marry the poor bloke and make an honest man out of him. While he didn't begrudge her the reluctance to define her relationship by a slip of parchment, he didn't think it was the title that stopped her from taking that final step. He was of the opinion that things like contracts and the finality that they represent terrified the pants off of one Lavender Brown. Hermione firmly forbid him from saying such things to their friend.

"What are we watching?" Evie asked as she flipped to the channel requested and found that commercials were on.

"Friends," Lavender said, making Hermione laugh.

"You and the bloody sitcoms," she said, shaking her head. "I created a monster."

"Something like that," Lavender agreed before turning to Lily and holding her hands out. "Hello munchkin, can I have a hug?"

"No," Lily turned into Sebastian's arms, burying her face against his neck and watching Lavender from under his chin.

Lavender sighed and dropped her hands into her lap before she tipped her head back to look at Hermione and Severus. "Why is it that only your children ever liked me?"

"Exposure," Severus answered dryly. "They had to adapt in order to survive."

Lavender laughed along with everyone else and Severus smirked at the blonde's mumbled "git" as she settled in on their floor to watch the show with his children on either side of her.

If anyone had told him twenty years ago that this would be his life, he would not only have not believed them but he probably would have hexed them for trying to play a cruel joke. He had never expected to marry and have children—not that he did it in that order, of course—and he certainly never expected to be _happy_.

Even after Sebastian was born, it had taken him a long time to accept happiness and love in his life. He had nearly buggered it to hell when he had walked out on Hermione after that ugly scene with Ronald Weasley, someone who was _still_ not welcome in his home by either him or his wife, and it had taken Hermione a long time to trust him again after it. It hadn't been smooth sailing for them, despite his impromptu marriage proposal, and it wasn't until Sebastian was almost three years old before either of them felt truly comfortable and secure in their relationship. Their son had been five years old when they finally married in a quiet, simple ceremony with only a handful of people present. They had fought for their relationship and he felt that it made the satisfaction all the sweeter.

He found that his eyes were drawn from the melodrama playing out on the screen down to his children on either side of their aunt. Evelyn was slouched down and tucked into Lavender's side as the older witch absentmindedly played with her thick, dark locks in a familiar manner that had started when Evie was little. When questioned about having her own kids, the blonde usually responded with some smart arsed comment about having already helped raise two little monsters, but there was no question about how much she adored them. On her other side Sebastian held Lily to his chest as the tiny witch alternated between getting caught up in the Muggle telly that was strange to her since her family didn't have one and eyeing Lavender warily every time she laughed at the on screen antics. It tugged at his heart to see his son holding a child and part of him wondered if or when Sebastian would make them grandparents.

There was another thing he never thought he'd be.

Of course, Evelyn might have children before Sebastian.

There was a thought he'd rather not contemplate.

"What's on your mind?" Hermione whispered, tapping gently at his hand that rested on her shoulder.

"The usual," he said, shrugging, his eyes wandering back to their children.

"Yeah," she murmured. "Me, too."

"Are we really going to let her go?" he asked softly, watching the back of his daughter's head.

"I think we should," Hermione said. "She's a smart girl, Severus, and she'll be with James. You know how fond the two of them are of each other, despite their bickering, and she'd be heartbroken if he went without her."

Severus sighed softly and glanced over at Ginevra Potter who was resolutely watching the television. The small smile on her face gave away her eavesdropping.

"It seems I have been overruled," he grumbled.

"Nonsense, love," Hermione smiled up at him, her eyes soft with affection. "This is a democracy, after all."

"Is that what you're calling it now?" he asked, arching an eyebrow at her.

"Yes," Ginevra agreed with a smirk. "It's also known as marriage."

**xXx**

Heathrow Airport was crowded, but that was to be expected.

Not that that made his mood any more pleasant, of course.

Severus glowered at any and all who dared cross his path, he didn't give a Kneazle's nut if they were Muggles and therefore unable to defend themselves against him, if they got in his way they were going to leave with a pair of ringing ears—if they were lucky.

"What gate is it again?" Harry asked, green eyes narrowed at the Muggle electronic sign.

"Forty-Five," Severus snapped. "Honestly, Potter, sometimes I wonder if you would be able to tell the difference between your arse and a hole in the ground."

Harry turned to look at him, his expression flat. "Don't get your knickers in a twist, Severus."

"I'm going to make sure they never find your body," he growled, glaring at the younger wizard.

"You've been promising that for _years_ as I recall," Harry said mildly, turning back to the board.

"Yes," Severus agreed sourly. "It's about time I made good on it."

"Your wife would never forgive you," Harry smiled serenely.

"I think I could learn to live with the shame," Severus muttered, watching Hermione and Ginevra, James and Evelyn trailing in their wake, weave their way skilfully through a hoard of Muggles and their luggage laden trolleys. He often wondered if that was a mother's skill, or perhaps just a woman's? He had never developed the ability to slip through a crowd like an eel since he either stuck to the outskirts of it or, when at school, parted it like the bloody Red Sea with the sheer force of his personality. He'd never seen Potter manage it either, but that could have something to do with _who_ he was rather than what dangled between his legs.

He shook his head; he didn't want to think about Potter's bits.

Wrapping his fingers around Hermione's as she slipped her hand into his, he let himself be tugged in the direction of the gate that they needed to head to.

"Remember to keep your boarding pass with your passport," she reminded them as they walked, calling over her shoulder to the two teenagers who were excitedly comparing their tickets. As Harry had never been on a Muggle plane it was left to her to explain the details to James and Evelyn. "Don't forget to ward your trunks when you land and keep your passports in there, do not bring them out with you because if you lose them I'm going to have a hell of a time trying to get you new ones since you don't technically exist as British citizens."

With a laugh, Harry slung his arms around his son and his niece. "Just think about much _fun_ she would have if she had to go all the way to America just to bail you out of some jail for illegally entering the country?"

James laughed but Evie, having been on the receiving end of her mother's wrath more than once, made a face that clearly said she would rather take her chances with the American justice system. Severus grinned and tuned out the conversation as the children asked a few questions and Hermione rattled off information to them as if she were a human brochure. She was just as nervous about this as he was, despite her earlier confidence when they had discussed privately. He could tell she was fretting because she only rambled like a Reading Charm set on a textbook when she was trying to hide the fact that she was unsure about something. Gently, he squeezed her hand in his and rubbed his thumb over the back of her knuckles. She clutched back, making all the blood rush to the tips of his fingers, even as she continued to talk.

By the time they reached their gate, Hermione had over saturated the pair with information and put the fear of the Muggle god into James if he did anything so stupid as to reveal himself to the family he would be staying with.

"Okay, we have about a half hour before you board. Does anyone have to go to the bathroom?" she asked, looking from face to face. The children looked at her blankly while Harry hid his amusement behind a poorly timed cough.

"Evie," Severus spoke quietly, not wishing to broadcast his conversation. "I'd like to speak to you."

"What is it, Dad?" she asked, following him as he sat down on one of the plastic chairs.

Reaching into the pocket of the Muggle trousers that Hermione declared made his arse 'look fantastic', he pulled out a long silver chain and the pendant that hung heavily from it.

"Dad?" Evie's eyes followed the swinging of the large but simple silver 'S'.

Leaning forward, he slipped his hands under her thick, wavy hair and fixed the magical clasp around her neck. "This will only come off by your hands or by one of your blood kin," he said softly. "It is also a portkey that, when you hold it and speak a specific word, will take you directly home. It's quite illegal, so I'd rather you didn't advertise it to your mother."

"You went behind Mum's back to do this?" Evie grinned suddenly, picking up the heavy S and letting it sit in her palm. She ran her fingers over it gently and felt the raised ridges of an inscription on the back. Turning it over in her palm, she spied the small, cursive handwriting that read _Evelyn_. "You're mad, Dad."

"Yes well," he shrugged. "I can deal with your mother. What I can't deal with is knowing that you have no way to get home safely in an emergency."

"What about James?" she asked, looking up at him.

"If James touches it when you activate it, it will also take him home," he said.

"And what's the word to activate it?"

"That is up to you," he turned slightly and discretely cast a Notice-Me-Not charm on the area around them before slipping his wand fully out of his sleeve and taking the pendant from her. "You must pick a word that you will not accidentally say."

"Daddy."

"What?" he looked up at her.

"No, that's my word," she smiled and the brilliance of it washed over him, leaving warmth in its wake. "You said it yourself, I only say it when I want something."

"Too right," he grumbled but he was hard pressed to hide his own smile. "Very well," he tapped the 'S' with his wand and murmured '_portus activia'_. The pendant glowed with a bluish white aura before it faded, leaving behind only its natural shine.

"There," he murmured, letting it fall against her chest. It was a long chain for the purpose of being able to hide it under her clothes if she wished.

"It's beautiful," she murmured, looking down at it. "Thank you, Daddy."

"I thought you rarely said that word," he smiled wryly. "It's a good thing you weren't holding it."

"I know what I'm doing," she grinned. "I'm not a dunderhead."

"No," he agreed softly. "You're not."

"Aw, you're going to miss me!" she leaned forward and slipped her arms around him, tucking her head into the curve of his neck with a familiar ease. "Admit it, Dad. You're going to go batshit without me around."

"Should you be saying such words?" he asked, wrapping his arms around her anyway.

"I learned it from mum," she shrugged. "I'm gonna miss you, too, you know."

"Going to," he corrected. "You are English, you ought to at least speak it—oh Merlin, you're going to come home talking like an American, aren't you?" He leaned back slightly to look down at her laughing face.

"What_ever_," she said, sounding distinctly air headed.

"That's it," he announced. "I take it back, you can't go anymore."

"Nice try," she squeezed him harder. "You already said yes."

"No, your mother bullied me into letting _her_ say it," he clarified. "That word never passed my lips in regards to this."

"That's okay, Mum says she has final say anyway," Evie giggled at his snort of disbelief.

"Your mother likes to think so," he said. "I, however, know better."

Evelyn silently shook her head before pressing a kiss to Severus' cheek. "Thank you, Dad."

"For?"

"Everything," she shrugged, sitting up and pulling away. "You know."

"You're welcome," he said softly, a smile on his lips. "Come, I have to terrify James into obeying my every word even when he's on another continent."

Evelyn laughed and stood up, practically dancing over to her mother to show her the beautiful necklace her father had bestowed upon her. Without cancelling the charm, Severus stood up and approached James, who was talking to his father excitedly. With a tap on the shoulder and a pointed look at the chair that Evie had just vacated, James followed him meekly.

"Yes, sir?" he asked.

"I wanted to give you something," Severus said, pulling yet another item out of his Muggle trousers.

Without any flourish, he handed James Potter a simple leather band almost identical to the one that Hermione had transfigured for him years ago in a Muggle bar.

"Sir?" James asked, clearly confused.

"This is a portkey, James," he said quietly. "It is keyed to the one that Evie wears around her neck."

James looked up at his friend and the silver pendant that was displayed clearly against the black of her blouse. Severus followed his gaze and was momentarily struck by how much she had grown up when he hadn't apparently been looking. She was taller than her mother, even without the low heeled leather boots that she wore under her Muggle jeans, and she had long ago lost the look of a young girl who would throw on anything her hand touched first. She had become a young woman who looked like she was well put together—because she was. He shook his head minutely and turned back to James.

"This portkey will take you to whenever Evie's portkey is, which will be around her neck since none but her or her blood relatives can remove it," Severus continued in his low tone. "In the event of an emergency, you get to her, and you get her out of wherever you are. Her portkey will take her home when she activates it with a word, you must be touching it as well in order to go with her. Do you understand?"

James nodded silently, his thumb sliding over the soft black leather as he inspected the cuff.

"I am trusting you, James. You're the only one she will know over there and I will not be around to look after her," he sighed heavily. "I know that she is quite the capable witch, she is her mother's daughter, but that doesn't stop me from worrying. I will rest easier knowing that you are looking out for her."

"Of course, sir," James said, looking up at the man he usually feared to irritate. Severus could see the sincerity in the younger wizard's face and a tight knot of tension in his gut eased ever so slightly. "I'd look after her even if you didn't ask me to. She's my best friend, I love her."

"I know you do," he said, part of him wondering exactly _how much_ that sentiment covered but he pushed it aside for now. "Thank you for this, James. I am in your debt."

"Nah," he said, suddenly flippant. He slapped the leather cuff onto his wrist and it automatically fastened itself, tightening to the perfect size. "You can just let me call you Uncle Sev in class and we'll call it even."

Severus blinked at him for a minute and he had the briefest flash of a possible future fly through his mind. He pictured the look of utter confusion and, no doubt, horror on his students' faces if he were to allow the ever troublesome James Sirius Potter call him "Uncle Sev" in class. The image was too good and he promptly burst into laughter.

"Perhaps I shall," he said, his laughter unable to subside at the look on James' face. He was stunned, to say the least. "If only to see the looks on your classmates faces."

James grinned at that. "I know, eh? There'd be a few heart attacks, I think, especially if you didn't react."

"Oh, what a pity that would be," Severus found himself remarking dryly.

"You'll have to work on your concerned face for when Nancy Greene keels over," his nephew's grin could only be described as devilish. Severus shook his head, a bit bemused at the fact that he was joking around with James Potter. _Perhaps they really have grown up_, he thought to himself.

"I'll practice while you're away," he said, standing up and cancelling the Notice-Me-Not charm. "Come, let's rejoin the others before your mother starts to think that I'm terrorizing you."

"Mum thinks it's hilarious when you terrorize me," James admitted easily, falling into step beside him as they joined the others. "She says it saves her the stress of having to do it herself, and that you're better at it since you've had so much practice."

His words reached the rest of the group and Ginevra looked up at her son, glaring at him as she realized what he was saying to Severus.

"Does she now?" he asked, eyeing Mrs. Potter with a look that she remembered from her days in his classroom.

"It's true," she said, shrugging shamelessly. "You're proving my point right now."

Hermione laughed as Harry sidled up to him and nudged him with an elbow.

"You gave them portkeys didn't you?" he asked.

"Your powers of observation continue to astound me, Harry," Severus drawled.

"Thanks," he said simply.

"You're welcome," Severus replied.

Neither man looked at each other. They weren't _that_ comfortable with the other even after nearly twenty years of tentative friendship, but they had a better understanding of their respective personalities these days. They would never be intimate confidants or the best of friends but neither disliked the other, nor did they avoid sharing company as they once would have.

Far before he was ready, a woman dressed in the blue uniform of a British Airways employee announced that they would start boarding and that passengers should begin getting ready. James and Evelyn picked up their small carry on rucksacks, their suitcases having been checked by Hermione, and made sure that they had their passport with their tickets before being enveloped in hugs all around.

Severus pulled his daughter into his embrace and held her tightly, pressing a kiss to her lightly scented hair. He didn't say anything because he knew he didn't have to, she knew that her father loved her dearly and that he would miss her with no little amount of anxiety until she was back home. She squeezed him hard enough to make his ribs protest the abuse and a soft grunt escaped him.

"Love you, Dad," she whispered before slipping out of his arms and into Harry's.

"James," Severus said, holding out his hand to the younger man when he approached him. "Have fun."

"We will," he grinned. "Try not to miss us too much!"

"You? No. My daughter? Yes," Severus said, shaking the hand in his.

"Ah, Uncle Sev, you wound me," James laughed, releasing his hand and slapping it against his chest. "You wound me deep."

"You are far too dramatic for your own good," Severus fought a smile. "Be gone, urchin."

"Did he just call you Uncle Sev?" Hermione asked, blinking furiously as she watched them get in line. "And you didn't hex him?"

"Don't cry," he said, avoiding the question and pulling her closer to him so that he could lay his hand on the small of her back. "She's only going away for a month."

"Says the man who gave her an illegal International Portkey," Hermione retorted, her voice amused.

"I haven't the slightest idea what you're talking about," he said, his face blank.

"Uh huh," Hermione smiled softly, watching her daughter hand over her passport and ticket to the smiling woman at the gates. "You always seem to forget that I'm an Auror."

"I think perhaps you should retire," he said neutrally. "You're getting rather paranoid, much like old Moody."

"Don't speak ill of the dead," she chided, poking him in the ribs.

"I was not," he defended, pulling her closer so that he could wrap his arm around her shoulders as he watched Evelyn turn to wave before she disappeared beyond the gate. "It was merely the truth."

Hermione sighed but did not respond as they watched James follow Evie, turning to give them a salute just as he too slipped out of their line of sight.

"That's it then," Harry sighed before turning to them. "You two want to share a cab back to King's Cross? We were going to go to Platform 9 ¾ to Apparate."

"That sounds good," Hermione said, her voice a little thick.

Ginevra and Harry turned, hand in hand, and slowly began walking back the way they had come when Severus bent to whisper in Hermione's ear.

"Let's go home, my love," he said, his voice deep with intent. "I know exactly how to get your mind off things and take advantage of an empty house all at the same time."

"Do you now?" she asked, a hint of humour in her voice as they began following the Potters.

"I do, indeed," he agreed solemnly, nodding. "I am quite good at multi-tasking."

"Oh," Hermione laughed. "That sounds like a challenge."

"Are you accepting?" Severus asked, smiling at the sound of her laughter.

"You may have just bit off more than you can chew, mister," she said, grinning up at him.

"I hope so."

He smiled and squeezed her hand, gently guiding her through the densely packed airport towards home.

Perhaps a month in an empty house wouldn't be so bad after all.

**Okay, I'll try to make this short.**

**Massive, massive thanks to IzPerplexing who was essential in writing this. I could not have done it without her help, encouragement and ego stroking. Thank you, darling!**

**Thank you to everyone who read, reviewed and rec'd this story. I really, really appreciate it and have enjoyed all of your comments. I really thought you guys were going to be all 'wut?' with Ch 22 but you blew me out of the water with your octave shattering fangirling. I cackled, just a little bit. My hubs is convinced that I'm certifiable, but at least I know that you lot understand. **

**Finally, yes, I am writing something new. It's a toss up at the moment between another SS/HG involving an accident in the Department of Mysteries and a Dramione with a heavy dose of my favourite Potions Master. I hope that you'll put me on author alert and check it out when it's done. **

**Thanks again :) **


	24. Outtake  1

**Cliché: Outtakes**

**Pure fluff. **

**I have no excuse, no reasoning. I just felt like it. Prepare yourself.**

**xXx**

Hermione yawned and held the kettle under the tap with one hand, her daughter secure against her hip with the other. Evelyn's head was tucked into the curve of her mother's neck but she was far from sleepy, she just knew better than to chatter at anyone at 7 o'clock in the morning.

Placing the kettle on the stove, Hermione plunked the lid down on it and turned off the tap before turning towards the fridge.

"What do you want for breakfast, Evie? Cereal? Toast?" she asked her daughter quietly.

"Egg sammich."

"Sandwich," Hermione corrected her gently. "And since when do you like egg sandwiches?"

"Gooey," her daughter replied.

"Well, yes, they are but that's no reason to have one. Do you like the way they taste?"

"I unno."

Hermione sighed and opened the fridge, reaching for the milk. "Then let's stick with something you know you like, okay?"

"Pwease, mummy?" Evelyn pulled back far enough to look at her mother with big, dark eyes.

"Where did you learn how to do that, hmm?" Hermione smiled at the disheveled child in her arms. "Certainly not your father."

"What have I done now?"

Hermione and Evelyn turned as one towards the kitchen door to find Severus standing in his bath robe, hair a mess and bleary eyes.

"Daddy!" Evelyn cried, holding out her arms for him to take her.

"She wants an egg sandwich for breakfast," Hermione told him as he took their daughter from her.

"She's three, can she even eat one of those?" Severus asked, hefting the little girl in his arms and heading for the cupboard where they kept their mugs.

"She can _try_."

"Pwease, daddy? Pwease? I wants egg sammich."

Severus deposited her on the edge of the counter, standing in front of her to ensure she didn't fall. "You _want_ an egg _sandwich_, Evelyn. You are not a house-elf."

"Winky!" The little girl perked up, looking around for her favourite house-elf.

"Winky is at Hogwar—"

Severus was cut off by the _crack_ of Apparition. In a heartbeat he had his wand out and his daughter safely behind him.

"Little miss is calling Winky?"

Hermione looked from her husband, wand still drawn and aimed, to the tiny green Elf and promptly burst into laughter. Winky looked terribly confused. Severus glared at her as he slowly straightened and slipped his wand back into his pocket.

"I'm sorry, love, it was just..." she trailed off and shrugged.

"Yes, quite entertaining."

Evelyn giggled from behind her father, poking her head from under his arm. With a precocious grin on her face, she waved at Winky who promptly waved back. The Elf had taken an instant shine to Evelyn, even more so than she did to Sebastian, probably because Evelyn was delivered at Hogwarts whereas her brother had not been. Evelyn in turn adored Winky in a way that Hermione was pretty sure the Elf hadn't experienced since the late Barty Crouch Jr had been a child, before he turned to the Dark Lord.

She had been wary, at first, of leaving her child with an Elf known to overindulge, not to mention that she'd come from a questionable family, but Severus had eventually set her mind at ease. He had come up with the idea of purchasing Winky from Hogwarts and thus giving the Elf what she wanted, a Master and Mistress to serve, and ensuring that Winky would follow Hermione's orders regarding her children. Hermione hadn't been pleased with the idea of owning an Elf but after seeing Winky throw herself at Severus, crying and begging for him to buy her, she had relented.

"Winky, you didn't have to come all the way from Hogwarts," Hermione told her now.

"Winky not minding, Mistress," the Elf assured her. "Winky be making breakfast for Little Miss?"

This was something that still bothered Hermione. She hadn't grown up with maids, and even though her life had Hogwarts had been made possible mostly by the work of Elves, she'd rarely had to deal with it directly. "Er, actually, could you go wake Sebastian?"

"Of course, Mistress."

She cracked out of the kitchen, making Evelyn giggle again. "Daddy, Winky here."

"I noticed," Severus said dryly, turning back around to face her again. "If your mother makes you an egg sandwich, are you going to eat it?"

The little girl nodded, a pleased smile on her face.

"All of it?"

"All!"

Winky appeared in the kitchen once more. "Little master is awake, Mistress. Breakfast now?"

"Winky, there are a couple loads of laundry in the basement. Would you please start them?" Severus asked.

"Yes, Master!" The elf beamed at him and disappeared again. Hermione cast her husband a _look_ and he shrugged.

"You've got to give her _something_ to do, you know."

Hermione sighed and rolled her eyes, turning back to the fridge as Severus poked the still cool kettle with his wand and set it to heating. She had just piled the eggs, bread, cheese and ketchup on the counter when a sleepy Sebastian, dressed in Spider Man pyjamas, wandered into the kitchen, rubbing his eyes and dragging his feet.

"Mum?"

"Yes, love?"

"Why'd Winky wake me up?"

"Because I asked her to, love."

"Oh."

She smiled as her sleepy son looked around blearily, spotted his father with his sister on the counter, and shuffled over to wrap his arms around one of Severus' legs. No one would ever believe her if she told them that her husband was the favourite parent out of the two of them. Everyone seemed to believe that he hated children and that they in turn hated him. Perhaps it was true of other people's children, but definitely not his own. Severus reached down and brushed his hand over Sebastian's unruly hair.

"Do you want some milk?" he asked his son. The little boy nodded against his father's thigh. "Well then you'll have to let go of me and go sit at the table."

Sebastian did as he was told, pulling himself onto a chair, his pyjamas making him slide a bit on the polished wood. Severus deposited Evelyn into her specially transfigured chair next to her brother and placed a light sticking charm on her pyjamas to ensure she didn't attempt to crawl out of her seat. They had learned that lesson the hard way.

"Do you want an egg sandwich for breakfast?" Hermione asked Sebastian, cracking an egg into the hot pan. He shook his head silently. "What would you like, then?"

"Toast?"

"We can do toast."

Severus placed a plastic cup full of milk in front of his son before proceeding to dig out the toaster. They lived in a mostly Muggle home during the summers because it meant they could maintain their anonymity; living in a Wizarding area would not afford them any privacy and neither of them wanted their children to be gawked at. Granted, the press generally left them alone but they weren't above printing pictures of the family out and about on a slow news day. It continued to irritate Severus to no end when his children ended up in the society section of the paper.

Placing a cut up egg sandwich in front of her daughter, Hermione sat down at one end of the table, closest to Sebastian, and eyed her daughter warily. When Severus joined her at the other end, his own sandwich and Sebastian's toast in hand, he grinned at her.

"You look worried."

"I'm thinking the walls of our kitchen will be yolk yellow soon, of course I'm worried."

"That's what magic is for, my dear."

"You remember that when _you_ are cleaning egg out of her hair."

Evelyn, completely oblivious to her parents, and her brother for that matter, picked up a quarter of her sandwich and bit into it. She made a little humming noise, apparently a sign of approval, and proceeded to stuff her face. As predicted, she'd gotten yolk all over her mouth, nose and cheeks within seconds.

"Ew, Evelyn, that's gross," Sebastian commented, chewing on his toast with jam.

Evelyn smiled at her brother, opening her mouth so he could see her food.

"Gross!" Sebastian yelled, turning away.

"Evelyn," Severus warned her, putting down his own sandwich. "Ladies don't show people their half-eaten food. Aren't you a lady?"

She seemed to think about this for a moment, her eyes darting towards her mother who was trying to hide a smile in her cup of tea, before turning to her father and shaking her head 'no'.

Hermione snorted in a distinctly unladylike manner, causing Severus to glare at her.

"I wouldn't be laughing if I were you," he said, his lips twitching. "She's clearly _your_ daughter."

"Mmmhmm," Hermione smiled, picking up her fork and spearing a bit of scrambled egg. "That she is."


	25. Outtake 2

Cliché Outtake 2

**Because I want to make you all vomit rainbows.**

**xXx**

At first, Severus thought he might have stepped through the Floo and into the wrong house. He could hear Muggle music, alien and odd to him, coming from one of the rooms and he had a moment of panic that he'd ended up in some Muggle's home. A quick look around and a shake of his head proved how truly stupid that thought was; Muggle's aren't connected to the Floo Network, for one, and that picture sitting on the bookcase was one of him with his daughter mere hours after she had been born.

This was his home.

But what was with the racket?

Ah, yes. His wife.

Brushing his robes clean, Severus slipped out of his boots and with a flick of his wand he sent them scurrying towards the front door and little trainers that belonged to his children. Quietly, he crept towards the sound and found himself heading for the kitchen. It was completely unnecessary to be stealthy, of course, because that noise covered the sound of his steps well enough, but it was ingrained in him.

Reaching the doorway to his kitchen, he peered in, lips twitching against a smile.

With their daughter Evie in her arms, Hermione danced around the kitchen, apparently making lunch. A small music player was plugged in to the Muggle outlet on the counter and it was from there that the sounds of some rock band emanated. He looked around quickly for his son, who was never far away from his mother, and found him sitting on the floor near the refrigerator, watching his mother dance away with a wide grin on his face.

Amused, he settled in to observe his wife, her back to him and all of them completely oblivious to his presence, as she wiggled her hips and shimmied from side to side, making exaggerated poses for her son, who laughed and mirrored them from his position on the floor. Evelyn tried to sing along with the song, but only succeeded in yelling vaguely in her mother's ear, but it didn't seem to bother Hermione one whit. His witch sang along to the lyrics, and did some weird little cha-cha-cha, as she slapped a sandwich messily together.

Picking up the plate with the peanut butter and jelly confection she turned to place it on the table and finally spotted him.

"Oh, _shi —!"_ she gasped, jumping. He grinned as she quickly set the plate down and turned a terrible shade of bright red. "Severus!"

"Daddy!" Evelyn shrieked, waving frantically with one hand.

"Hello, my love," he said to his daughter. Leaning against the door jam, he grinned at his wife. "Please, don't stop on my account."

Hermione pursed her lips in a wry smile, half-embarrassed at being caught out while she acted like a fool. He didn't mind, though; he was highly entertained by her little show. It was a shame that she had noticed him so quickly.

As if she had read his mind, she turned and looked at Sebastian as the song changed to another upbeat number. "I think Daddy needs to dance with us, what do you think?"

"YES!" Sebastian scrambled to his feet, and ran to Severus, grabbing his father's hands and dragging him in to the kitchen proper.

"Now, wait a –"

As one, his family began dancing around him. His wife and daughter together, wiggling and bopping from side to side, Evie with her little hands in the air, and Sebastian doing some sort of standing convulsion beside him. He looked down at his son, the picture of enthusiasm, with his limbs akimbo and a huge smile on his face, and he began to laugh.

Stepping closer to him, Hermione reached out and snagged a bit of his robes so that she could pull him down into a kiss. "Dance with us, Daddy," she murmured against his lips.

"Dance, Daddy! Dance, Daddy!" Evelyn shrieked.

"Merlin preserve me," he muttered, reaching out and taking his daughter from Hermione.

Awkwardly, and feeling like a total idiot, Severus began to shuffle a bit, bopping along to the song. He had no idea what he was doing, he didn't even like the music coming from the little player, and he'd never done this before. The extent of his dancing experience was slow and stately, at a formal dinner or some such thing. He wasn't even sure his hips could move the way Hermione's were. He watched his wife, now free of a toddler in her arms, move around smoothly, her bottom swaying from side to side in time with the beat, her shoulders moving up and down.

"Like this, Dad!"

He looked down at his son. It looked like the child was trying to beat up some invisible foe while simultaneously hip thrusting. Hermione's laugh brought his eyes back up to her smiling face. She looked so wonderfully happy.

"Yeah, like that, Severus," she echoed. To his horror and amusement, she copied her son, stepping back so that she didn't punch him in the nose as she began flinging her arms and body about.

"You look ridiculous," he told her, smiling.

"I know," she grinned cheekily and turned away from him, heading back to the counter. "Come here my little dance crew, you're going to need your energy."

Evelyn began to struggle in his arms, wanting down, so he walked over to her high chair and deposited her in it. Sebastian continued to dance; he wiggled and gyrated his way over to his chair before climbing in to it and continuing to bop his head in time to the beat. With a shake of his head, Severus walked over to his wife and wrapped his arms around her from behind. It was times like these that he sometimes wondered if it was all a dream, an elaborate fiction in his mind.

"I love you," he murmured in her ear.

She pressed back against him and turned to kiss his jaw. "I love you, too," she said. With another shimmy of her hips, she grinned at him. "And maybe later I can show you my _other_ dance routine."

With a snort, he pressed a kiss to her shoulder and squeezed her tighter.

"I shall hold you to that, witch."

**xXx**

**I just realised that my outtakes tend to revolve around the Snape kitchen. Huh.**

**In case you were wondering, the song that I was gyrating to (in my kitchen, yes) when I thought of writing this is called "Forget My Name" by a band called One Night Only. They also have a song called "Say You Don't Want It" with Emma Watson in the video in case you are interested.**


	26. Outtake 3

Cliché Outtake 3

**This is NSFW! I repeat, NSFW!**

**xXx**

"It smells funny," Sebastian complained, wrinkling his nose as his mother spread the thick cream over his arms.

Sitting on the small pull out couch that came with the cottage they had rented for the week, Hermione slathered her son's body in sun block and watched him sniff his arms curiously.

"You'll live, I'm sure," Hermione replied dryly.

"Why can't we just take a potion?" Sebastian asked petulantly. "Daddy can make it."

"Because we're having a Muggle holiday," Hermione explained for the umpteenth time, "which means that we do things the _Muggle_ way. I grew up wearing sun block and bug spray, it won't kill you."

Her six year old son gave her a look that plainly said he didn't believe her and she had to hide a smile because it reminded her so much of his father. Severus had given her the exact same look when she'd told him that no, he couldn't wear his robes to the beach and that it wouldn't kill him to get a bit of sun.

She finished up rubbing the cream onto the back of Sebastian's legs and with a gentle pat told him to go find his sister, who was playing outside, probably getting filthy.

Sebastian walked to the door, pushed on the screen divider and stuck his head out to yell, "EVELYN! MUM WANTS YOU!" before turning back to her.

Hermione's eyebrows went up. "I could have done that myself. You were supposed to go _get her_, not holler like some little street urchin."

Sebastian shrugged and slipped out the door, presumably to do the job properly this time. A few scant minutes later Evelyn appeared at the door, dressed adorably in her denim shorts and pink one piece bathing suit, and surprisingly clean considering how long she had been left alone with a sandbox.

"Are we going beach now?" she asked excitedly. Evelyn was the only one who shared Hermione's enthusiasm for a Muggle style family holiday.

"Very soon," Hermione said, smiling. "Come here, I want to fix your hair so it doesn't get all knotted in the wind."

Evelyn rushed over and situated herself between her mother's knees. At three years old she was uncommonly tall for her age and soon Hermione would need her to sit down on the floor in order to reach the top of her head properly.

Gently, Hermione separated her daughter's hair and began quickly pulling the thick, dark curls into a French braid. She worked quickly, going down the back of Evelyn's head, but still her daughter fidgeted, anxious to get moving. She was just about to clamp her knees about the wiggling body in front of her when the door to the bedroom opened with an ominous creaking sound and she looked over.

Severus stood there, absolutely glowering at her, but wearing the dark grey swimming trunks that she had procured for him in London.

She took in the sight of him in so little clothing, a rarity outside of the bedroom, and smiled widely. Despite being over fifty years old, Severus' body showed little of his age. It was due to his magical blood, she knew, but she appreciated it nonetheless. His pale skin was tight over lithe muscles that hinted at strength and sparsely dotted with dark hair that stood out in contrast.

It was this dark hair, particularly the delicious looking trail of it that cut a path down his flat stomach and towards his groin, that she followed with her eyes, taking in and appreciating the subtle V of his hips that all seemed designed to point her to one place. She forced her eyes not to linger, but to continue downwards to his thin legs, and long, pale feet.

Dragging her eyes back upwards she met his gaze with a devilish grin.

"You should dress like this more often," she told him boldly, wiggling her eyebrows at him comically.

Both his shot upwards and a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "That would hardly be appropriate."

"I didn't say _teach_ dressed like that," she told him, turning back to their daughter and her hair, "but I certainly wouldn't complain if you happened to misplace some of those robes while in our quarters."

"I can wear mine at home, Mummy?" Evelyn asked innocently, plucking at the pink material covering her belly. Hermione heard Severus snort off to her right and her grin widened. Tying off her daughter's hair with a simple Muggle elastic, Hermione leant forward and placed a loud, smacking kiss on Evie's neck, making her giggle and shy away.

"Yes, my love, you can wear your bathing suit around our chambers if you would like, but you might get a little cold down in the dungeons with so little on."

"Daddy not get cold too?" she asked, turning around so she could look at both her parents.

Hermione glanced at Severus, who was looking distinctly amused. "Daddy is a grown wizard, he knows how to keep himself warm."

Evie nodded, her expression scrunching a little. "When I get own wand?" she asked. It was not the first time such a question had come up, from either of their children.

"Eight years," Severus told her. "As you well know. Where is your brother?"

Evie sighed and looked sullenly at her father. "Outside."

Hermione stood up, rolling her eyes at her daughter's dramatics and ushered her towards the door. "Go play with your brother for a moment, and remember the rules."

"Uh huh," Evelyn said, pushing the screen door open.

Hermione followed her out on to the small porch to watch her daughter join Sebastian at the little playground that was conveniently situated right in front of their rented cottage. There were a few other children there, sliding down the plastic tubes and ramps, and playing on the swings and so Hermione didn't mind leaving them there on their own for a few moments. Sebastian was adorably protective of his sister and she trusted him to watch over her while Hermione cornered Severus into putting on some sun block.

She turned back to her husband and smiled at the way he stood, arms crossed over his chest and a sceptical look on his face.

"Don't give me that look, you agreed to this vacation."

"I agreed to _a_ vacation, you insisted on revisiting your childhood," he corrected.

Crossing the small living room and kitchenette, Hermione picked up the bottle of sun block from the couch and squirted some into her hand as she approached Severus.

"You grew up with a solid understanding of the Muggle world, how many times in your life has it assisted you?" she asked him pointedly. "Or would you have your son be one of those wizards who looks absolutely ridiculous whenever he has to dress like a Muggle?"

He glowered at her, his brow furrowing spectacularly, but he didn't have anything to say other than a slight huffing noise and Hermione knew that she'd won that little argument. Severus had very few happy memories from his childhood, and so it was up to Hermione to recreate elements of her own for their children, something that she knew Severus was torn about. On the one hand, he acknowledged the importance of them understanding all aspects of their heritage, of being able to blend in when their Muggle grandmother took them for a weekend, and enjoying life as much as they could, but on the other hand it was a constant reminder every time Hermione took them to a fair, or the cinema, or a craft show, that these were things he should have done as well, things that should have formed the happy memories that his wife had and he did not.

Gently, Hermione kissed the hollow of his collarbone before pulling back to start spreading the sun block over his pale skin. She was as dedicated in covering all of him as she was when she had performed the task for her two children.

"Have you put this vile concoction on yourself yet?" Severus asked quietly, watching her hands moving over his chest, the dark hairs following the pattern of her movements.

"I have," she said, squeezing some more into her hand and sweeping them down his shoulders and on to his biceps.

"How did you manage that feat?" he asked, giving her bathing suit a pointed look. It was a one piece with an open back and a low neckline. Tied around her waist was a knee length wrap that matched her dark blue and green suit.

She looked up at him and grinned impishly. "I cheated."

"You used magic." He sounded both affronted and amused. "I wonder how the children would feel about that."

Hermione poked him in the rib with a slippery finger. "You wouldn't dare."

"Wouldn't I?"

She grabbed him about the waist and forced him to turn around so she could reach his back. "No, you wouldn't because I'd just blame it all on you."

"Me!?" He turned awkwardly to give her a look over his shoulder.

"Yes, you. If you hadn't been taking your sweet time getting your trunks on, which shouldn't be all that complicated for a grown, educated man like yourself, I wouldn't have had to worry about getting both the kids into _their_ swimming suits, making sure they were covered in sun block, and had all of their beach toys ready all on my own now would I?"

"The damn thing comes with built in pants, Hermione," Severus countered. "It was weird. I had to remove them before I could wear them."

She laughed as she crouched down and quickly rubbed more lotion into the back of Severus' legs, his hair slightly rough against her hands. He looked down at her.

"I can do that part myself, you know."

"I know," she replied, "but maybe I like touching you like this."

She tapped his ankle, indicating that he should turn around and covered the tops of his feet and his shins with cream, rubbing the white streaks away. Glancing up at him, she slowly slid her hands under the trunks, which fell to the tops of his knees, her fingers climbing higher and higher up his thighs.

Severus watched her with dark eyes, his mouth slightly parted, his gaze flickering between her searching hands and the clear view he had of her breasts.

"Our children are just outside," he reminded her softly, but his voice was thick with the desire that was swiftly becoming obvious to her from where she knelt at his feet.

"Then we best be quick," she said.

Her fingers encountered coarse hair surrounding soft skin, and Hermione watched Severus' expression change as she gently dragged her fingertips along the skin of his sac and up towards his rapidly filling shaft. His breathing hitched slightly and his tongue darted out to wet his lips.

Heat shot through her, pooling low in her belly and making her shift slightly where she knelt. There was a near overwhelming urge to simply pull down his shorts, wrap her legs around his waist, and tell him to take her against the wall. It was an old fantasy, but one that was not exactly feasible in a small cabin built with thin walls.

Instead, she stood up and hooked her fingers into the waist of his trunks, pulling him towards the bedroom that he had so recently vacated. He followed silently, a willing accomplice, content to be directed to the bed and pushed down on to it. His body bounced slightly, the old springs creaking and groaning under his weight. Hermione crawled atop him, her eyes glued to his as she yanked down his trunks and swung her legs over his narrow hips.

Tugging the material of her bathing suit out of the way, Hermione reached between them and guided him to where she needed him, brushing the head of his cock against her in a way that sent shivers of pleasure zinging through her veins. Slowly, she pressed down upon him, her muscles stretching around the delicious intrusion of his body in hers, and watched as his eyes fluttered shut and his jaw went slack with pleasure. Her body wasn't completely ready but she didn't care, she didn't have any time or inclination for foreplay.

Seated atop him, Hermione leant backwards and balanced herself on his thighs. Her hips rolled and she felt the muscles beneath her hands, beneath her bottom, flexing in time with her slow rhythm. Closing her eyes, she basked in the pleasure for a moment, letting her head fall back as she focused completely on the feel of him inside of her, of the way he seemed to press at points of pleasure with every gentle thrust.

The feel of his hands on her, pushing aside the material that covered her breasts, and the way his rhythm faltered slightly as he sat up had her opening up her eyes and looking down at his dark head. One large hand spanned her back, his palm hot against her skin, as his head dipped down and took her breast with his mouth. Pleasure spiked through her body and she cupped the back of his head, threading her fingers through his dark hair and encouraging his attentions as her hips picked up the pace.

Severus didn't require any direction to continue, he was well aware of his wife's wants and needs and he took great pleasure in meeting them. His teeth nipped lightly at her nipple, teasing it slightly, as he gently raked his nails down her exposed back. She broke out in goose bumps and her hand clenched involuntarily in his hair.

Shifting the priority of his hands, Severus let go of her back and leaned on that hand so he could better match the rhythm of Hermione's hips and reach down between them, stroking her with his thumb.

He had barely touched her when she felt the building pressure crest and break over her, making her cry out with the pleasure as her muscles spasmed around him. Her rhythm faltered for a moment as she clung to her husband, pressing him tightly to her body.

When her eyes opened it was to find Severus leaning back on both hands, a small smile on his lips as he watched her. Her face flushed with embarrassment, thinking about what kind of expression she must have made as she climaxed.

"You're beautiful," he whispered, as if reading her mind.

"So are you," she murmured back.

His smile turned into a smirk. "Hardly."

Hermione didn't answer. Instead she shook her head slightly and placed her hands on his hips as she resumed her movement, rolling her hips and clenching her muscles deliberately as their bodies connected deeply. Severus' eyes fell closed once more, his head tilting back and exposing the pale scars on his neck where she had almost lost him before she ever knew exactly how important he was. She looked away from the twisted tissue, focusing on the expression of pleasure on his face and how his jaw clenched tightly as his orgasm approached. Another roll of her hips, another thrust of his, and every muscle in her husband's body seized. He let out a soft grunt of pleasure and she felt him, deep within her body, swell and pulse with his orgasm.

She smiled to herself, rocking her hips against his gently, pressing them tightly together as his breathing came in short pants and his body slowly relaxed with the pleasure. His eyes opened and he looked at her with a slow, languid smile.

Leaning forward, she pressed a kiss to his lips, following him down as he fell back on the bed. "I love you," she murmured against his mouth.

Severus' hand came up to sweep her long, curling hair out of his face. He opened his mouth to reply when suddenly he paused, his eyes narrowing slightly.

"What's wro—"

Suddenly, the screen door slammed. "Mummy? Daddy?" Evelyn called. "We go now?"

"I _told_ you, Mum said she'd come get us."

"Nuh uh."

"Oh, shit!" Hermione swore under her breath, about to jump off of her husband and try to set herself to rights before the light patter of little feet reached the open door to the bedroom.

Severus moved quicker than she, however, and in one smooth movement he reached over the side of the bed, snagged the edge of the light duvet and pulled it with him as he rolled them to their sides, effectively covering them.

"Mummy? Whatcha doin'?"

Hermione quickly pulled the top half of her bathing suit to rights and leaned up on her elbow. In the doorway stood her two children, their identical dark eyes watching their parents with curious expressions.

"Well, honey...I was just putting some sun block on Daddy and..." she trailed off, trying to think of a lie.

Severus sat up then, carefully keeping the blanket over their laps.

"I got cold, Evelyn, because I am only in my bathing suit. Your mother was...keeping me warm." Hermione was impressed with his ability to keep a straight face.

Evelyn frowned slightly. "But Daddy has wand."

"Yes, but I chose not to use it this time. I will later," Severus answered her. "Do you have all of your toys together?"

Evelyn shook her head slightly.

"Well, go get them and put them in your beach bag so we can go."

Their daughter turned quickly and ran to do as she was bid. Sebastian followed, but with significantly less enthusiasm, and with several suspicious looks at his parents. He was old enough to know that his father's explanation didn't make much sense but not quite enough to know why he was being lied to.

Hermione waited until they had both left the cabin, the sound of the screen door slamming heralding their departure, before she fell back giggling. Really, she was amazed that Evelyn had been able to hold off coming to look for them for as long as she did.

"Smooth talking there," she told Severus.

"If you hadn't come at me like a cat in heat I wouldn't have had to lie," he teased, his eyes dancing with amusement.

Hermione let out a bark of laughter. "I don't recall any complaints at the time, mister!"

He leaned over her with a smile and kissed her softly, forestalling any further laughter.

"I love you, too," he whispered against her lips.


End file.
